


The Catacombs of Rylia

by Scruggzi



Series: The Thrilling Adventures of Doctor Space Phrack [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: AU, Everyone's wearing a towel, F/M, Gratuitous references to Douglas Adams, Other, casefic, female doctor - Freeform, phrack - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-03-30 01:43:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 45,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13939881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scruggzi/pseuds/Scruggzi
Summary: Having decided to join the Doctor on an adventure through time and space, Phryne and Jack find themselves at luxurious Fountain of Youth Hotel and Spa Complex on the beautiful planet of Rylia, but despite the idyllic surroundings the Doctor is worried. Someone called her here for a reason, someone who needs her help.





	1. Prologue: Forever Young

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second long fic in my DrWho/Miss Fisher crossover series and takes place directly after the events of A long Road to Patagonia. For those who didn't read or don't remember here's my 'last time on'.
> 
> Last Time On The Thrilling Adventures of Dr Space Phrack...
> 
> Phryne's trip to England was interrupted by a malfunctioning alien time machine, killing her father and leaving Phryne with untold damage to her timeline. She's rescued by the Doctor and together they seek out some space justice for the late Henry Fisher - there's a sword fight involved. Unable to return to 1929 and what with Phryne's overpowering thirst for adventure, they pick up Jack - who was getting very angsty whilst trying to solve the mystery surrounding Phryne's disappearance - and head off for some space adventure. Our detectives are suffering from fatigue, emotional exhaustion and post coital confusion...and that's before they even hear about the space wyrms.
> 
> P.S, by Chapter 3, everyone's wearing a towel. Don't Panic. This fic is very silly.
> 
> This fic would suck a lot more if not for the tireless efforts of firesign who as always was an amazing beta and helped me work through a load of characterisation issues and reassured me during my fabulous furry freakouts. You're awesome and I owe you so much tea at this point a revolution could be caused by it!

The catacombs of Rylia were one of the great natural wonders of the galaxy. Millions of years ago, when the planet was in its infancy, Rylia was an ocean world; the storm-tossed waves rolled, huge as mountains, unbroken across the surface of the globe. The bedrock beneath the sea was a latticework of crystal; a hard, beautiful, azure crystal, worn smooth by the waves and churning sands. It was shot through by a grey, porous rock, destined to be slowly eroded by the pressure and acidity of the water.

The surface of Rylia never supported much in the way of life; the seas were never calm enough for anything much bigger than microorganisms to make headway on an evolutionary path towards complex flora or fauna. Rylia, however, did not remain an ocean planet for ever. Slowly, slowly, as the tick of centuries and the tock of millennia passed, the ocean began to drip, drip, through the porous stone of the bedrock, carving out a vast network of fantastical crystal caverns, lit by the light of binary suns, whose rays penetrated deep through the semi-transparent rock, warming the land slowly exposed as the sea drained towards the planet’s core.

As the ocean sank, the land emerged, and broke up it up into smaller seas and lakes. Beneath the crystalline roof, deep subterranean pools emerged, more hospitable to the evolution of complex creatures than the rough waters on the surface. The ocean took the sand with it, as it sank out of sight, and it caught in the corners of the tunnels exposed by the steady wear of water on rock; the sandy soil, laced with the microbes from the receding ocean, eventually gave birth to plants and animals. It was here, under the planet’s surface, protected from the elements by a roof of cerulean crystal, that life, and eventually civilisation was born and thrived.

That was the story as the scientists of Rylia told it, and it was a good story, having the benefit of being true. It was not the story as the children of Rylia knew it, nor the parents or the grandparents of those children, who had each in turn been told another tale under the soft glow of the Alia, the Red Giant of Rylia – which was the nearest thing to night on that planet. In the old stories, the caverns were formed by huge creatures, wyrms from the depths of the ancient ocean, who had burrowed and gnawed great holes in the rock, before descending back down into the depths, never to be seen again. According to those tales they were down there still, deep under the cities and the slums, in the dark, where even the bright light of the white sun Thangos, could not reach them.

It was a cautionary tale, told to children to ensure that they did not stray too far from the habitable caverns and ocean lakes near the surface and keep them from getting lost in the maze of tunnels below. No-one on Rylia knew for sure how far down the tunnels went. All of them, on some level, believed the wyrms were down there still. Although most of the adults would have denied it, if you asked them.

Jiat most certainly would.

Jiat was a highly successful man. A captain of industry who had made his fortune the old-fashioned way; he had inherited most of it from his father, and employed people competent enough to invest it soundly. This left him free to enjoy the finer things in life, and what a life it had been. For nearly two centuries, he had cheerfully enjoyed a spectacular range of sins and vices which, sadly, had taken their toll. His body now, was bloated and diseased, kept alive by a combination of sheer arrogance and an expensive and an expansive program of medical care, not available to many on that planet.

Despite possessing a level of narcissism few could afford and being for the most part entirely impervious to the ravages of existential angst, it had not escaped Jiat that this situation was untenable. Whilst fabulously rich, he was, ultimately mortal. Mortal and alone, in a way only the truly selfish can be.

He was, in short, the perfect mark. Which is why, when he was contacted out of the blue by a representative of Rejuvenation Technologies Incorporated – _RejuviTech: Making The Best Of Us Young Again_ \- he was perhaps a little lax when it came to reading the fine print.

To be fair to Jiat, RejuviTech did appear to be a sound investment on a commercial as well as a personal level. His most valuable property - The Fountain of Youth - was a luxurious hotel and spa complex situated in the centre of Rylia's largest city. Carved out of the living rock of the catacombs, The Fountain of Youth was were the social crème de la crème from sixteen solar systems came to enjoy a little pampering in decadent surroundings.

Rylia had long been a popular tourist destination for those seeking to enjoy the calm waters of the underground sea, fabled to have healing properties; this was probably a myth, but one enthusiastically peddled by those, such as Jiat, with investments in the tourist trade. RejuviTech offered something different, something no other spa in on Rylia could offer, and, well, this was a cut-throat business. Jiat was prepared to overlook a certain amount secrecy, make a few minor sacrifices. Especially as he had been promised a first-hand demonstration. If it worked…well, let’s just say, he would be prepared to make a substantial investment.

The demonstration itself took place in a large chamber of the hotel usually reserved for massage therapy. The tables were cleared and replaced by a large, ugly, metal box which was humming and spewing wires across the room.

“We’ll have to do something about the aesthetic.” He barked at his ever-capable general manager, Myax, who was looking at the thing with undisguised scepticism. They had been rather forthright in their opinion that this technology could not possibly work as claimed.

The saleswoman - or was she a technician? Jiat wasn’t entirely clear - the company had sent for the demonstration, smiled a corporate smile at him.

“The demonstration model is designed simply for functionality; naturally, if you were to put in an order we could provide customised variations to whatever visual specifications you require.”

She glanced appreciatively around the gorgeous room, the white sun was high in the heavens above the catacombs and the light, fractured through the crystal walls was the warm azure-blue of a summer sky.

“Perhaps something with a chrome or silver finish to complement the beautiful lighting you have here? And of course, we have smaller, hand held models for minor procedures, cosmetic improvements and so on.”

“I want to see if it works first. No need to get ahead of ourselves, my dear.”

If the old man’s tone offended her, the company representative was too much of a professional to show it. She merely nodded, and began tapping a complex sequence of numbers into the slick, handheld black oblong that served as the machine’s control panel.

Myax took their boss’ hand and assisted him towards the metal box, his heavy weight lent against their shoulder, the acrid smell of his mangy fur in their nostrils. He hobbled the last few steps himself, taking a seat inside the machine. The company woman shut the door on him with a satisfying clunk and entered a few further sequences of numbers into the control pad in her hand.

Turning the full power of public relations on the still sceptical Myax, she continued her sales pitch.

“Prepare to witness the miracle of rebirth. At Rejuvenation Technologies Incorporated, we pride ourselves on bringing life to the dying and beauty to all. At least,” she winked, “to all who can afford it.”

The machine was fizzing and purring, a crackle of golden light just visible through the tiny porthole window in the door. Whatever was happening in there, Myax hoped that their boss wasn’t about to meet a sticky end. It would hardly be premature if he did, but despite his many failings, they rather liked the old bastard. Apart from anything else, until this wretched charlatan had turned up with her expensive electronic snake oil, he had been quite content to let his manager get on with their job, as long as he could rake in the profits. That was how Myax liked it, it left them in control of their own little domain, which they were very good at managing.

The hum of the machine and the golden light were beginning to die down and, after few more taps at the console, the room was filled once again with silence and the serene blue of Rylian daylight. There was a hiss as the door mechanism released, opening the door was apparently automatic, probably for dramatic effect, Myax decided. A wave of steam escaped the little chamber, followed by the figure of a man.

It did not look like the Jiat Myax knew; this man must be a century and a half younger; his fur was sleek and silver, tipped with black. His eyes were bright with a pale, opalescent sparkle that reflected the perfect blue of Rylian daylight; there was no sign of the rheumy glaze that had fogged his vision and periodically sent viscous fluid leaking down towards his nose. Still, there was something in the face and the self-satisfied expression it wore that Myax recognised.

“Sir? Jiat, is that you?”

He flashed a sparkling smile at them, took Myax’s hand and danced them in a circle round the room, dipping and twirling till they couldn’t help but laugh.

“It is me, my dear Myax. All doubts overcome I hope?”

They could only stare at him, dumbfounded and at a complete loss for how to respond.

Jiat gently loosed their hand and turned to the company representative, who was smiling, smugly, still holding the control pad.

“Now, I think we might just be able to do business together, young lady. Why don’t you step into my office and we can talk terms?”


	2. Chapter One: The Fountain of Youth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter follows directly on from the end of Long Road to Patagonia in which Phryne an Jack enjoy a romantic interlude in the depths of the TARDIS (and Phryne then enjoys another one with Jack in the past, it's very confusing for all involved). Phryne has mislaid her underwear and Jack is missing his tie, but before they have time to recover their wits - or their breath - the Doctor is whisking them off on another adventure in answer to a mysterious distress call...

“Where are you taking us, Doctor?” Phryne asked, blazing full steam ahead in the hope that the past 24 hours would not catch up with her.

It had been a horrific, terrifying, marvellous, exhilarating day. Or had it only been a day? Phryne had been rescued from isolation on a remote island by an alien being – a self-proclaimed Time Lady calling herself the Doctor – who travelled the universe in a time machine called the TARDIS. Together they had seen justice served for the murder of Phryne’s father (well, as close as she was going to get), and Phryne had told Jack Robinson she loved him.

If she cared to glance a little further back – and she did not – there was pain and loss and madness enough to keep her running flat out into whatever the adventure universe had ready for them next. It was better that way, better to just keep moving forward; you never know what delights might be lurking around the next corner after all – or what monsters might be catching up behind you. 

They were standing just inside the TARDIS doors, Phryne’s hand lingering on Jack’s waist; she wondered if she would have time to drag him back to the bedroom the Doctor had provided for her. Their little – well, not _so_ little – investigations earlier had been quite the revelation, her legs were still a little wobbly.

Jack’s hand was splayed over Phryne’s hip, grounding him in the one real thing amidst all of this palpable insanity and trying his best to keep up. He still was not entirely convinced this whole affair wasn’t some bizarre fever dream or hallucination, but he could feel the living heat of Phryne’s body through the silk of her dress; she was alive, here with him, when everyone had thought her gone for good. It was a strangely freeing feeling, the realisation that madness was preferable to the alternative.

The Doctor grinned, completely oblivious to both the existential angst and the baser speculations which were occupying her companions’ thoughts. Her eyes were lit up with delighted anticipation. She loved this part - getting to see the universe, fresh and new through mortal eyes; and now she had her very own little Alice in Wonderland – not to mention a hilariously grumpy policeman – to share it with. It almost made her feel young again!

“Well, I did promise you a planet Alice. It’s been a long day, and after my run in with Captain Hoxa I apparently need a haircut, so…The Catacombs of Rylia!” The Doctor announced this with a dramatic flourish and a chord on the TARDIS console keyboard that probably sounded more ominous than she meant it to.

“Shouldn’t we dress for the occasion?” Phryne was wearing nothing but a red silk afternoon dress – her shoes, stockings and underwear having been discarded in another part of the TARDIS. Even Jack, who had managed to retrieve most of his suit, was looking considerably more rumpled than usual.

“Oh, I wouldn’t bother. There’s a dress code – they’ll sort us out when we get inside.” 

“You plan to get a haircut in an underground maze?” Jack frowned, a little confused.

“Not just any underground maze. One of the most luxurious and decadent destinations for sixteen systems and,” the Doctor flashed a wallet containing a white square of paper, “we’ve been invited.”

The detectives detached themselves from each other and moved closer to read the short message written on what they would later learn was the Doctor’s psychic paper. Three words:

_HELP ME DOCTOR_

“Who’s this from?” asked Jack, curious and a little apprehensive. He preferred to know what he was walking into if possible, although in this instance he was forced to admit it probably wasn’t.

“I have no idea,” replied the Doctor, “let’s go find out!”

The TARDIS landed on Rylia with a blast of air and a groan of engines. It was the dark dawn; where Alia, the red sun of Rylia, rose as Thangos, the white sun, set. For a brief time, they hung in the sky together, and the combination of lights, shimmering through the crystalline walls was a brilliant mix of blues and purples. Phryne gasped in delight as she stepped onto the polished stone floor, tugging Jack behind her by the hand.

“Oh Doctor, it’s beautiful!” Phryne’s eyes travelled up to the roof of the wide cavern in which they had landed. They were close to the surface here, and the twin suns were clearly visible as glowing lights through the translucent ceiling.

Jack was no less impressed; he strode over to the nearest wall to examine the strange blue crystal which made it up. It was as flawless as glass, not a crack or fracture, nor the mark of a chisel to indicate how it was constructed.

“The cavern looks like a natural formation,” he observed, “unusually clear for raw crystal. I’ve never heard of anything like it.”

Phryne had moved over to join him, smoothing her fingers down the unbroken surface, feeling for unseen evidence of masonry.

“I saw a monastery in France once, carved into a natural cave formation, but nothing like this.”

The Doctor stepped down out of the TARDIS, her long, red velvet coat an even deeper burgundy in the purple light, her smart red cloche tilted at a slightly jaunty angle to cover up the large section which was missing from the hair at the front of her head.

“Do you know how it was made?” Jack asked her, looking up from his examination at the Time Lady’s approach.

“Depends who you ask, it’s either geology, or giant prehistoric space-wyrms.” Her face was completely serious.

Jack returned her look with one of sardonic scepticism; he rather suspected she was trying to get a rise out of him. Just what he needed, two of them.

“Geology sounds like the more probable explanation, even on – where did you say we were – Rylia?”

“True,” Phryne agreed, “but a far less interesting one.”

“You’d think that, wouldn’t you? Assumption, however, can sometimes be the mother of an undignified escape from the ravenous bugblatter beast of traal,” the Doctor grinned.

Her smile was in no way reassuring, and as she began to stride purposefully towards a large tunnel in the far wall, Jack and Phryne exchanged a glance behind her back; neither of them were entirely sure whether or not she had been joking.

“Don’t dawdle you two,” the Doctor called back over her shoulder, “I’m sure there will be plenty of interesting walls to investigate once we get to the hotel.”

 

The corridors, or possibly roads, leading up to the hotel were mostly deserted; dark dawn came late at this time of year and most of Rylia was already asleep; at least in the more respectable parts of the city closer to the surface and the sunlight.

The path was wide enough for them all to walk abreast, Phryne holding Jack’s arm as she had done on many an investigation before; the innocent gesture loaded with new meaning in this strange new world. Every now and then, Jack would reach a hand across and place it over her fingers where they gripped his bicep through the rumpled fabric of his suit, then with a light squeeze withdraw it, as if worried the slightly awkward gesture was too much.

The light was dimming as they walked, the deeper purple was an intimae light full of shadows, strange and distorted by the varied thickness and opacity of the walls. The Doctor, however, was in full flow, casting light onto Rylian history and culture – random insights gleaned over millennia of casual acquaintance with the place.  

“These are the upper tunnels, the closer you are to sunlight, the better off you are. The people stuck lower down have a much harder time of it.” She explained, clearly troubled by the prospect.

To Phryne and Jack, the situation sounded not dissimilar to life back home, for all the fantastical nature of the place. Not for the first time since she had met the Doctor, Phryne was visited by a strange kind of disappointment, that even out amongst the stars such problems had not yet been solved. Jack felt a guilty kind of relief, here was something he could understand, something beyond the warm touch of Phryne’s fingers under his to ground himself in this reality. He shook the feeling off and tried to focus on where they were heading.

After about five minutes, during which they saw no-one but a solitary, indistinct figure on what appeared to be a hovering motorcycle, the tunnel passed through another large cavern, but this one was more than just an empty room. The Fountain of Youth Hotel was a self-contained series of caverns and corridors, not unlike those in the public areas they had already seen. Someone had clearly gone to great pains to communicate the idea that these corridors were not intended for just anyone to walk through.

The sloping side of the cavern had been deliberately carved into a wide, curved staircase, leading up to what would have been another broad passageway. The entrance to it was blocked by a complex mesh of silvery metal; it glinted in shades of mauve and violet in the soft, purple twilight. Artificial lights had begun to supplement the dim glow of the red sun, they could be seen shimmering faint and dispersed through the cavern walls in all directions, including the floor and ceiling. The Fountain of Youth was glowing bright and blue with hundreds of lights. They spilled out over the steps making the cut crystal sparkle like sapphires.

Phryne caught her breath, perhaps Cec and Bert would have disapproved of how easily she was won over by impressive architecture in the face of social oppression, but she couldn’t deny the sight was stunning. Glancing up she could tell that Jack – who was a lot harder to impress – was similarly captivated and she was a little surprised as the joyous stutter of her heart as she watched his reaction. She had told him once, in a letter which had discovered an unusually circuitous route through space and time to find him, that there was no-one she would rather share the world with than him. It was an incomparable feeling now to be able to show him the universe – to see the impossible for the first time together.

The three travellers ascended the steps with the Doctor in the lead and approached the ornately carved metal door set in the lattice. It was shut at this hour, but there was a large bell pull with a plush purple rope and a speaking tube in the shape of a snail shell, which was worked into to the complex patterns of the lattice gate. The Doctor tugged on it without hesitation.

“Hello there, anyone awake? We are weary travellers and we need tea and possibly biscuits. You should probably send someone down.”

She was brimming with confidence, grinning over at the two detectives as she spoke. Phryne was trying not to laugh, and Jack was wondering if his first adventure on an alien planet was going to involve being escorted from the hotel by the local police. There was something about the Doctor that made even relatively innocuous actions feel like arrestable offences. Then again, Miss Fisher usually managed to pull that trick in reverse, so perhaps the two of them would balance each other out.

A curt voice emanating from the speaking tube responded.

“Do you have a reservation?”

“Oh, probably,” the Doctor waved a hand as if this sort of thing was a minor detail, “why don’t you send someone to check?”

“Guests can only be admitted with a reservation, we are fully booked. Good day.”

Unperturbed the Doctor continued to hang on the bell pull, demanding tea, sandwiches and all manner of much more improbable things - Belgium for example - until the owner of the unfortunate voice finally capitulated and send someone down. It was not a welcoming committee.

The hotel security officer was a Sontaran; heavyset with a face like an angry potato and no sense of humour anyone had ever been able to locate.

“Clear off!” he evidently was not in the mood to provide either tea or cake, and Belgium was completely out of the question.

The Doctor flashed the psychic paper at him, unblinking in the face of his scowl. His demeanour changed immediately and he appeared to shrink slightly. Jack - who was doing his best to observer whilst not appearing to stare at the first obviously ‘alien’ alien he had met - thought the man might actually have winced.

“Sorry Ambassador, I wasn’t informed. If you and your companions would care to follow me I’ll show you to reception.”

The guard kept quiet for the remainder of the short trip to the reception area, apparently worried that anything he said might be used as evidence against him, and left them with the receptionist who, after a few seconds of whispered conversation, appeared equally worried.

The receptionist was the perfect picture of Rylian respectability; tall, slender, with a mass of neatly combed silver fur covering her whole body. She was wearing a large turquoise towel, draped like a toga with a silver fountain insignia embroidered over the right breast. The artificial lights were an icy blue, white enough to make out faint shades of colour. The light of the red dawn was still strong enough that the artificial light merged and intersected with the warm heliotrope of nature; each glinting off the silver furnishings and casting counterintuitive shadows in strange places. It was beautiful but disorienting, like being on the inside of a kaleidoscope. 

“Ambassador,” the receptionist addressed the Doctor with a worried frown, “I’m so sorry for the misunderstanding, we were not informed of your arrival. If you and your companions would like to take a seat, I will arrange accommodation for you all.”

She bustled off through a side passage with a harried frown and a curious glance back over her shoulder at the new arrivals. The Doctor, Phryne, and Jack were left alone in the sumptuous vestibule of the Fountain of Youth Hotel.

“What was that piece of paper, Doctor?” asked Phryne, clearly impressed, “and are you really an ambassador?”

“Oh, I expect so,” replied the Doctor with a shrug, “I can never keep up.”

She tossed the wallet to Phryne who looked at it; the paper inside was blank. She shot the Doctor a questioning look.

“Psychic paper. I wanted the man at the door – a Sontaran if you were wondering - to believe we were people who would be admitted without question, the paper told him we were. You can pass messages with it too – give it to Jack, he’ll see what you’re thinking.”

Jack looked extremely sceptical about this, but took the paper from Phryne and read:

_We should have made sure they put us in the same room, I’m not nearly finished with you, Inspector._

He stifled a laugh, flicking amused eyes up at his partner.

“I’m fairly sure I didn’t need ‘ _psychic paper’_ ,” he let the words ooze with sarcasm, “to work that out, Miss Fisher.”

Jack handed the paper back to the Doctor with his sternest policeman’s frown; a little too stern to be entirely serious.

“I don’t pretend to understand how this works, Doctor, but if I find you trying to use it in Melbourne, I will make sure it is confiscated.”

The Doctor looked down at the paper and read:

_Where can I get one of these for Miss Fisher’s birthday?_

“Oh, don’t be such a grumpypants, Jack, you’re not a policeman here.” The Doctor winked at him.

Their escalating banter was interrupted by a stunning vision of a person who entered from a side passage wearing a broad, customer service, smile and a towel - turquoise, like the receptionist’s - but draped around their waist like a sarong; the silver fountain emblem resting jauntily on their hip. Myax was Rylian like the receptionist, but their look veered more towards style than respectability. Their fur was worn long, especially around the back of the head, where the silver gave way to a sweep of deep ocean blue which continued in a long line down the ridge of their spine. Their face, like their body, was slender and sharp under the soft fur, with high, pointed cheekbones and wide, mother-of-pearl eyes, slanted slightly upward, like a cat’s; in the dappled light they seemed to change colour as Myax moved, it was mesmerising. Their long limbs ended in soft turquoise slippers at the feet, and slender, pianist’s fingers at the hands, with impeccably manicured nails, painted the same deep blue as the fur on their head.

Phryne had a slight advantage on Jack in meeting people from alien races, she had travelled with the Doctor to The Shadow Proclamation – centre of intergalactic law – and had seen and met people from many different worlds as she sought justice for her father’s murder. Myax though was like someone out of a dream, or possibly the kind of literature that got unfairly censored by governments. That combination of masculine strength and feminine grace was deeply compelling. Jack was utterly wrong footed by this new development, his analytical mind liked to observe and categorise, a comforting background hum that allowed him to keep calm and maintain order – even in the most extreme of circumstance. Myax overturned the pedestrian taxonomy developed on Earth without even realising it; Jack couldn’t even identify their gender let alone their species. The grace and confidence of their movements made him think of Phryne when she was in her element, charming whatever she wanted out of some unsuspecting man. The juxtaposition was threatening to short circuit his exhausted brain and it was all he could do to remain stoical and wait to see what would happen next.  

Myax was in for no less of a shock; they had been summoned from their bed by the receptionist, with the news that an unanticipated VIP had arrived and would need to be accommodated. They had hurried down, expecting to find an ambassador and her retinue and instead… 

“Myax!” the Doctor’s delighted shout of surprise got a brief moment of confusion before Myax’s professional smile gave way to an honest beam of genuine delight. It showed very white teeth, with sharp canines, a little longer and more pointed than those in a human mouth. “This is brilliant! I was hoping we would bump into you!”

“Doctor? Is that you? Of course, it is! I’d know that smile anywhere, you glorious menace!”

The two embraced, the brief, affectionate hug leaving a few silver hairs on the Doctor’s red velvet coat. Behind their backs Jack and Phryne exchanged a glance, Phryne mouthed the words “old friends” and Jack responded with a slight tilt of the head signifying his agreement.

The Doctor and Myax broke apart, allowing Myax to look her over properly; they were at least a foot taller than the Doctor, which was a strange experience for them, he had been much taller the last time they had seen each other. Myax took the Doctor’s hand and she performed a slightly bashful twirl under their arm, the skirts of her long velvet coat billowing outwards a little as she did so.

“Female at last I see Doctor, I always said it would look good on you.”

“You know I always took your advice very seriously Myax; you had an annoying habit of being right.”

“Liar! Still a shameless flatterer then. It’s been too long.”

“Yes. Yes, it has.” The Doctor sounded a little awkward, “you know how it is, people to see, planets to save.”

Myax was looking at her with a very understanding expression, which softened the pointed edges of their face.

“Speaking of people, won’t you introduce me to your friends, Doctor?” they asked, smoothly deflecting attention from the awkward moment.

Phryne took her cue, the full power of the charming socialite behind her genuine, and honestly intrigued, smile of greeting.

“Phryne Fisher, and this is my partner Jack Robinson. Delighted to meet you, “she hesitated for a fraction of a second, realising at that moment that she too was not exactly sure what gender the Doctor’s friend was.

“Myax,” they supplied, which did nothing to solve that particular mystery.

They shook hands, and Phryne realised the long silky hairs which trailed down to Myax's wrists were shorter and softer on their palms. The sensation was inescapably sensual, and Phryne felt a brief pang, not of regret - she loved Jack and regretted nothing about her decision to be with him – but an awareness of what that love would cost. She could not simply chase sensation for sensation’s sake without hurting him, and she would not do that. Still, there was a lot to be said for keeping him to herself for a bit, and who could tell what ideas he might be willing to entertain down the road. He might surprise her yet.

“A pleasure to meet you, Phryne Fisher.” Myax seemed no less intrigued by the Doctor’s new friends.

“Please, call me Phryne.”

“Jack.” Jack held out his hand and to Phryne’s surprise, augmented his relatively formal handshake with a little smile, shading almost to flirtatious around the eyes. Having gotten over the initial shock, Jack had decided to take a leaf out of his partner’s book and deal with his internal confusion by ignoring it, and simply moving forward. She was a terrible influence on him.

Phryne was actually a little impressed by this development, she had been a little worried that this whole experience might have been a bit much for him, he had barely acknowledged the reality of time travel a matter of hours ago and it was a lot for a rational man to adjust to.

“Let me guess,” Myax was addressing the pair of them now, “you were whisked into a terrifying and unexpected adventure, the Doctor turned up to rescue you, and before you even had the chance to pack a bag, you were on an alien planet and she was,” they shot a knowing glance at the Doctor, “or is – looking for trouble.”

“Not a bad assessment.” Jack agreed, amused.

Myax turned to the Doctor, Rylian’s didn’t have eyebrows but if they did, they would have been raising theirs.

“And at any point since you met these good people, did you remember that us mere mortals sometimes require sleep?”

The Doctor rolled her eyes. “Sleep! I’ll never understand what you lot see in it. Sure, it helps pass the centuries when you’re my age, but you youngsters should be up and doing. There’s a great big universe out there waiting for you to poke it with a spoon!”

“Thought not.” Myax sounded a little triumphant at having so accurately assessed the situation and turned their attention once again to the detectives. They weren’t wrong; neither Phryne, nor Jack had got much sleep in the past 24 hours, and now that someone had brought this up, they suddenly became much more aware of the fact. Phryne had to stifle a yawn.

“I tell you what, why don’t I get you a room and you can get settled. We can all have breakfast together at white dawn when the true day begins. It’s a sight worth seeing anywhere on Rylia, but especially here; we’re lucky to be so close to the surface.”

Phryne was more than happy with this plan, she was tired, and although she would never admit it, could use a little time to adjust to this new world herself. Jack seemed to be having similar thoughts, and accepted the offer from Myax with his usual courtesy. The two detectives were ushered off towards a luxury suite by the receptionist, who seemed less worried and more curious now her boss had arrived to take responsibility for the new arrivals. The Doctor bid them good night and followed Myax towards her old friend’s living quarters - something which added pointedly to Phryne’s old friend theory. She let it go without comment, she had a lover of her own to occupy her and was looking forward to repeatedly renewing that acquaintance with him as soon as she got him alone.

Once out of public viewing, the Doctor thought Myax seemed to sag slightly, as if they were carrying a weight on their mind. The Time Lady found herself forcefully reminded that she had not brought her new friends here on holiday. Someone had called her here, someone who needed her help and she was beginning to suspect that person was very close at hand.  


	3. Chapter Two: Old Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a heavy dose of fluffy phrack smut as our detectives decide to work out the sense of understandable vertigo that comes with being on an alien planet in the best traditions of fic - by getting thoroughly naked. Meanwhile the Doctor catches up with an old friend of her own, but after 20 years making their own way in a corrupt and unequal society, is Myax still the person she once new?

The room Phryne and Jack were ushered into was spacious; a chamber formed apparently naturally from the same translucent rock they had seen throughout the complex, but with alterations to ensure privacy. In the main body of the hotel the walls had been polished until perfectly transparent, it was like walking through a maze of windows in a soft purple twilight full of stars and fireflies. In here the surface of the rock had been carved in detailed whorls and spirals, not unlike the sliver mesh at the front gate. This rendered the crystal partially opaque, although lights and shadows could still be seen through the walls. These could be blocked out as well by drawing heavy curtains, coloured the same shade of turquoise as the staff ‘uniforms’, if the towels they wore could be called that. The ceiling was hung with a similar fabric, preventing light from entering above.

There was an oval bath, sunk into the floor of the adjoining washroom at which Phryne glanced with longing. The furniture, including a bed, drawers, and wardrobe were made out of the same carved silvery metal as the front gate. The receptionist, who introduced herself as Lilia, showed them how to run the hot water, the cold cabinet, which was full of tiny wrapped food parcels, and the drinks cabinet, which, sadly, included nothing that appeared to resemble whiskey. She was professional but curious, watching the humans with obvious intrigue as she went through the highly scripted routine for VIP welcome tours without deviation.

Jack wondered if they were the first people from Earth to have visited Rylia, and if the receptionist had ever seen a human before. Somehow it seemed rude to ask, although he couldn’t decide exactly why. His previous intention to simply let this experience happen to him without second guessing his actions was under strain. This was a social game in which no-one had explained the rules; any action or inaction a potential transgression he would not know he was making.

For Phryne, the experience of being shown around a beautiful hotel room by a curious but deferential servant in an unknown and exotic location was, in its way, comfortingly familiar. She might never have been on this planet before but she at least knew this world. She had thus decided that her standard response when too tired to feel inquisitive would have to suffice. She felt almost guilty for it, she should, she knew be chatting merrily with a woman from another world, learning all she could about this place ready for tomorrow. It was a shock to realise that she truly didn’t have the energy. It had been a very long day.   

Once Phryne and Jack were left alone, a pregnant, but not exactly uncomfortable silence descended. Their hasty reunion after months apart – at least from Jack’s perspective - and the sudden and violent death of Phryne’s father, had been emotionally exhausting, and Myax had not been wrong when they observed that neither of the detectives had had much sleep recently. There was a slight sense of misalignment between them that they both wanted to dispel.

Here in the quiet twilight, all of those long painful days apart caught up with them at once, and Phryne responded by turning to her partner for comfort. It felt like the most natural reaction in the world as together they tethered each other to an Earth so far away and long ago they wouldn’t know where or how to start looking for it. For now at least, it was enough. Jack’s eye’s fluttered shut for a moment, his arms going automatically to Phryne’s waist as she held him close. He had loved her for so long, been driven half mad with worry through the long months of her disappearance, but he could easily count the number of times he had held her like this without running out of fingers.

“Let’s go to bed, Jack.” She whispered into the familiar wool of his rumpled suit.

There was nothing frenzied in their touch this time; they undressed each other slowly, sharing smiles like little secrets as they took time to discover all the places that tickled and teased. They climbed into the large bed together, running hands and lips over soft skin and old scars; pausing to luxuriate in long, slow kisses and indulge in the feeling of closeness that went beyond the touch of Jack’s hand on the bare skin of Phryne’s hip, and the light press of her lips and cheek as she kissed her way along the muscles of his abdomen.

Ordinarily an impatient lover, Phryne felt herself relax into this slow build of sensation; returning over and over to kiss his lips and run her fingers along the familiar planes of his jaw, through the ruffled curls of his hair. They had made love before, mere hours ago from her perspective, but the intimacy still felt new, new and wonderful; an exquisite balance between adventure and the promise of home.

_“I love you.”_

It was a whisper in her ear, punctuated by the press of lips and tongue against her neck. Phryne angled her head down to kiss Jack’s mouth, her hand reached up to his cheek, drawing his face away so she could look at him.

“I love you, Jack Robinson. I love you, and I’m very glad you’re here.”

The smile he gave her boyish and full of an innocent joy, which swiftly morphed into something utterly indecent as he cast a slow, appreciative look down at her naked body.

“So am I, Miss Fisher.”

Keeping his eyes on hers, he bent his head to take a nipple between his lips, swirling the point of his tongue around it, making her purr in appreciation. The tips of her fingers stroked through the hair at the back of his neck as his broad palm found her other breast, teasing the peak of her nipple between his fingers as he explored her curves. Not wishing to leave either side neglected, he switched places; Phryne’s hands stroked down between his shoulder blades, holding him tightly to her, as if afraid he might escape.

Meeting her eyes again, Jack withdrew and began to press a trail of tiny kisses down her belly, around her hips; his tongue finding the space between hip and thigh which made her moan and writhe against the fluffy turquoise bedclothes. Phryne did not attempt to hurry him; she was utterly content to simply relax into his caresses and let the beautiful sensations carry her where they would. It felt as if all of the care and worry and grief that had dominated her life since she had left Melbourne had drifted away to be replaced by a pleasurable glow of contentment, filling her up from the inside out, and playing in thrills and sparkles over her skin, like the deep indigo light of the alien sun, still visible through the opaque walls of the room.

Jack dipped his tongue inside her, tasting salt and something... _else_ – he paused, realising what it was. He had made love to Phryne only twice before, once after they were reunited, under the starlit sky of the TARDIS Observation Lounge, and once in what he had thought, for a long time was nothing but a dream. A profound and disturbingly vivid dream, which had brought him both comfort and torment whilst Phryne was missing, whilst everyone else thought she was dead. From his perspective it had been six months at least since the night after she had left to fly her father home. He had gone to sleep, disappointed that crime – which had brought them together – was now keeping him in Melbourne, unable to follow her. He had woken in the night to find her in his living room and they had tumbled into bed together, raw and needy, as she willed him to realise that she was merely delayed not lost, long before that loss had been made known to him, and he stubbornly refused to recognise that she was real, blinded by the terrestrial limitations on his understanding of the possible.

Their places in time might have been out of step, but it had been real, and for Phryne it had only just happened; now, lapping hungrily between her legs, Jack realised he could taste himself inside her. It felt glorious, debauched, illicit, but somehow also comforting; a visceral connection between this strange new world he had found himself in, and the life he had left back in Melbourne. There was a truth and an honesty here that went beyond the mundane strictures of admissible evidence. Whatever madness he had followed her into, he had done so willingly, and here, right here - with the hard peak of her clit under his tongue and sound of his name falling from her lips as she shook and trembled through her climax – this was real. And if it wasn’t, reality was overrated.

Phryne lay back on the pillows and actually giggled in pleasure and pure joy. Jack slid up the bed to settle beside her, unable to resist the urge to keep touching her, smoothing the freckled skin on her arms, playing with the ends of her hair where they lay like a messy halo on the pillow between them.    

“Is something amusing you, Miss Fisher?”

Phryne stretched out, her head tilting back and forth in a smooth, feline motion that communicated utter satisfaction.

“Well, you are reasonably entertaining, Inspector.”

“Only reasonably? I’m sure I can improve on that.”

He slid his hand behind her head, holding her close as he kissed her, and there was gentleness and power and passion in the press of his lips, the firm stroke of his tongue against hers. This was her Jack, confident and in control again. Phryne had been a little worried about him; he was a sceptic by nature, pulled against his will into a world any sceptic would dismiss as fantasy or madness, and it had shaken him to the core. She knew it, although she had not seen the depths to which he had sunk in her absence - which was probably for the best or she might never have had the gall to drag him with her on this infinitely improbable adventure. Phryne rarely felt guilt about anything, least of all the consequences for men who were foolish enough to obey her whims, but she had been honestly wondering - overjoyed as she was to have him with her - whether it would have been kinder to leave him behind. She realised now her fears were unnecessary, his calm, purposeful touch eased her worries even as it sent shivers down her spine and made her ache with need for him.

Phryne pulled Jack towards her, rolling underneath him and pressing close so their whole bodies were touching. She could feel the press of his cock against her belly, his warm skin under her fingers. Their kisses became more heated; Phryne’s hands slid lower over the small of Jack’s back and to grip his backside; she shifted up towards the headboard so the wet heat of her sex came in contact with his erection. He gasped and moaned her name into her mouth as she bit at his bottom lip. Jack raised himself up on his arms so Phryne could slide her hand between them; she stroked him firmly, relishing the silky feel of his intimate skin under her fingers as she guided him inside her.

They made love slowly, savouring the feeling of connection, of being as close as they could be to one another. All thoughts of where they were and the long and painful road which had brought them there drifted away, until there was nothing but sensation and honest words of love whispered softly into skin. Phryne’s climax was a lingering, golden thing; a tide ebbing in, stroke by stroke until she was submerged by waves of ecstasy and entirely undone. Jack kissed her through her peak then sped up for a few more thrusts before he too was overwhelmed, his blackened vision blurring out the strange purple twilight of the Rylian night.

As Jack withdrew to lie beside her, Phryne rolled into him, unwilling to relinquish contact, and rested her head on his chest, draping her legs over him as if there wasn’t plenty of space in the large silver bed. Jack smiled down at her, her eyes already closed, her face peaceful and content.

“Phryne,” he whispered, uncertain whether or not she was already asleep.

“Hmmm?”

“I’m glad too, that I’m here I mean, and so very glad you’re safe.”

“Don’t count on it for long, Jack.” She mumbled sleepily, yawning into his chest, “this _is_ an alien world after all, anything could happen.”

Jack hmphed, with an acknowledging tilt of the head that Phryne, her eyes still closed, did not see, and settled back against the comfortable pillows. She was right of course, but he couldn’t help but feel that after tonight, there was nothing the two of them couldn’t face - and also that Rylia better watch out, because in the morning it was going to get its first proper taste of Phryne Fisher. It was sure to be a memorable occasion for all involved.

Hundreds of lightyears and several millennia away from the world they knew, Phryne and Jack slept peacefully in each other’s arms, whilst outside, above the crystal catacombs, Alia, the red giant of Rylia, crawled slowly across the indigo sky.

 

 

The Doctor and Myax headed away from the public areas of the hotel, towards the staff quarters, which were less luxurious than the guest wing, but still comfortable and reasonably large. Myax had a small apartment; fairly basic, with a kitchen/living room and a bedroom plus a small bathroom with a metal shower cubicle, rather than the elaborate sunken baths provided for the guests. The blackout curtains were drawn, blocking out the purple Rylian night; the room was lit by hovering, artificial lights that traversed the ceiling in a slow spiral, bathing the room in white light. The bright glow allowed for an appreciation of the entire colour spectrum which was not something thing every Rylian could afford.

Myax moved across the living room to a small drinks cabinet; it was a beautiful thing, large, spherical and modelled to look like the red giant Alia, with the sunspots and crimson and scarlet swirls of the ancient star picked out in ceramic patterns on its surface.

“Do you still drink, Doctor?” Myax asked, pouring theirself a large measure of a local spirit, similar to brandy, which was the same vibrant red as the cabinet.

“You know I have no idea. This body is fairly new. Why don’t you pour us a glass and we can find out?”

They did so, handing the glass to the Doctor, who raised it in a silent toast.

Myax laughed; the slight slump to the shoulders and brittle cast to their expression was even more noticeable now they were safely in their private quarters, and the Doctor wondered how long it had been since they had laughed like that - honestly, not for the benefit of an audience.

“You know, Doctor, you are the only person I’ve ever met who does that when drinking with friends. You’re not the only Time Lord I’ve met either.”

“It’s an Earth custom. I think it’s supposed to symbolise a reassurance that you haven’t poisoned the drink.”

Myax laughed again; they seemed to relax a little and took a seat on a soft, cushion-like chair, sat by its pair in the middle of the living space. They gestured for the Doctor to do likewise and she nestled in to the worn, furry, fabric and took a sip of her drink. She choked, spluttered and pulled a highly entertaining grimace.

“Apparently I spoke to soon. Did I really use to drink this stuff?”

Myax’s smile was sad, but forgiving. They had known all along what the Doctor was, and had not expected to be remembered even this long. Time Lords were a race apart - they lived too long to love forever. Myax had not sat around grieving when the Doctor left, but had cherished the memories of their time together and gotten on with their life. Still, it would have been nice to think that the memories at least were something they still shared.

“You did. In fact, I remember one occasion you finished an entire bottle and came close to crashing the TARDIS into a gas giant. Good thing she’s got more sense than you.”

The Doctor smiled back ruefully.

“Oh yes, I do remember. I also remember the hangover.”

Myax looked up over her glass at their old friend.

“It’s been nearly twenty years for me, Doctor. I’m guessing for you it’s been longer?”

The Doctor nodded.

“A couple of hundred I think. I lose track. Just the one new face though.”

“And what brings you to Rylia after all this time. Don’t tell me it’s to see me, I know you better than that. Are we in danger?”

Looking at Myax, at the shrewd intelligence in their opalescent eyes, the knowing, sad little smile that played across their face, the Doctor felt an unaccustomed wave of nostalgia, and somewhere, still loud enough to be heard amidst the chaos of all the men she had been, the voice of her previous regeneration, viewing his old lover with regret and...disappointment. He had left certain in the knowledge that when he returned to Rylia, the person now sitting expectantly on the warn but comfortable chair in front of her would have saved this world. Instead they had just about managed to save themselves. It was a jolt to realise that those expectations had been utterly unfair, and that she had no right to expect anything from Myax, it had been the Doctor that had chosen to leave.

It was an uncomfortable level of introspection crossing multiple versions of herself, and as that always gave her a headache, the Doctor decided to fall back on her tried and tested technique of lying through her teeth to anyone younger than she was.

“Phryne and Jack have not had the easiest of weeks and I thought a bit of a holiday might be in order,”

“Don’t lie, you old fraud. Tell me what’s going on.”

The Doctor chuckled, a deep dirty chuckle that seemed somehow out of place in her tiny body, it was something of a relief to realise that that approach still didn’t work on Myax.

“I got a message,” she admitted, “someone here needs my help. I don’t suppose you know who that might be?”

It was only a moment, a fraction of a second, but Myax’s iridescent eyes narrowed, flicking slightly to the right, the Doctor followed their gaze but could see nothing to attract their attention in that corner of the room.

“No, not that I can think of. The Fountain of Youth has been doing very well in fact.”

The Doctor might not have immediately remembered the taste of Rylian brandy, but her previous regeneration had travelled with Myax for some time. They were not the only one who could spot a lie in the mouth of a friend.

Myax was evidently not about to share whatever was bothering them directly, so the Doctor considered her options. If Myax was hiding something, it was possible they were involved with whatever was happening on this planet and didn’t want the Doctor to know. It was a hard thought, but it had been a long time by Rylian standards since the two of them had travelled together, and Myax had evidently done well for themselves. Rylian society was fairly notorious for its corruption, especially in the business world; that success could easily have come at a price. On the other hand, the flick to the right in their eyes could have been directing her towards some kind of surveillance device; if someone was eavesdropping, that too could explain why they were being less than forthcoming.

The Doctor’s previous regeneration, the one which had known Myax and run with them for a while through time and space, would have simply pulled out his sonic screwdriver and shorted out all the electronics in the room. This version of herself discovered that she had become a little more circumspect. If someone was watching, they might not yet know who she was. She could let Myax keep talking, and perhaps maintain the element of surprise.

Myax however, seemed to have exhausted their desire to provide any obvious hints, and spent the rest of the evening chatting at length about the exclusive new ‘RejuviTech’ which the hotel spa now offered, as well as complaining about their boss - a man named Jiat - who had apparently started interfering in the day to day running of the place more than Myax would like.

The Doctor allowed her mind to wander, half listening whilst she tried to recall any details about the planet that might help her work out who had asked for help, and what kind of trouble they were in. Long after Myax fell asleep in their comfortable chair, tipsy from the brandy they had been drinking alone, the Doctor sat awake staring at the shrouded ceiling, her grey eyes wide and glittering in the pale, artificial light.

Far below the opulent tunnels where the upper crust of Rylian society could lie back and enjoy their brandy, another set of eyes, almost as ancient as the Doctor’s – at least on some of her timelines – watched the events of the evening unfold through the lens of a camera, hidden in the ceiling drapes of Myax’s living room. The quiet of their isolated chamber was broken intermittently by a litany of prehistoric curses.

It was already too late, the Doctor had been recognised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the end of Patagonia, Phryne realises that the 'dream' Jack had of their first time together was in fact a real event, just one that hadn't happened to her yet so for her it's only just happened but for him it would have been six months ago. Time travel makes for a very confusing sex life but I think they are getting the hang of it now.
> 
> Also please forgive any typos I didn't catch in this chapter. I decided to do a final edit whilst still sick with a cold and I'm fairly confused and snotty right now!


	4. Chapter Three: When on Rylia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phryne and Jack explore their new surroundings and make an alarming discovery about the Rylian dress code. The Doctor arrives with some information about the case.
> 
> A little more phrack smut and fluff before we get on with the plot.

When Jack woke it was still dark; through the walls he could see the purple glow of the red sun, he had no idea how long nights lasted on Rylia, but from its position he guessed that this one was drawing to a close. Phryne was still curled into him, her limbs tangled haphazardly with his, her sleeping face obscured by the uncharacteristically dishevelled mass of dark hair splayed out over the pillow beside him. He stroked it away from her face and kissed her gently on the forehead, trying to extract himself without waking her. Phryne blinked her eyes open sleepily and smiled up at him.

“Good morning.”

“Good certainly, I’m not sure about morning.”

He checked the wristwatch he had not managed to remove the night before. It read a quarter past eight, but whether that was evening or night, relative to the time they had left Melbourne he had no idea.

Phryne rolled over to let him out of the bed, yawning and stretching, a distinctly feline gesture which he found thoroughly endearing. He made his way to the bathroom to make use of the facilities, taking note with some interest of the large sunken bath set into the floor.

Phryne extricated herself from the bed, still naked, and began exploring the room, poking into the drawers and examining the controls which apparently operated the blackout curtains. She pressed a button and the room was plunged into darkness, then another and six glowing orbs appeared as if from nowhere, filling the room with a pale off-white light.

Jack re-entered the room and came over to stand beside her, reading the instructions for operating the complex lighting mechanism, which were fixed to the wall next to the controls.

“Strange,” he mused, “everything’s in English. There can’t be that many human visitors to this planet can there?”

“Actually, it probably isn’t,” Phryne told him, “I asked the Doctor about it before we picked you up. The TARDIS translates it all somehow, I expect it’s the same technology behind her psychic paper.”

Jack grunted in irritation; aliens and time travel were one thing, but he felt that as a rational man he should draw a firm line of credulity long before he got to telepathy of any kind. However, whilst he didn’t currently have a better explanation, he did have a naked Phryne Fisher, standing barely inches away from his equally naked self. This seemed like a much more interesting subject with which to occupy his time.

Phryne was still puzzling out the controls, trying to work out how to dim the lights without switching them off, when she felt the warmth of Jack’s body against her back and the soft press of his lips on her neck. She smiled, deciding on the spot that ambient lighting was entirely overrated. She let out a little moan as his teeth scraped the spot just below her hairline that sent sparks shooting down her spine, she could feel him harden against her back as his hands found her breasts, palming them with a firm, deliberate pressure and pulling her closer into his embrace.

Phryne spun in Jack’s arms to kiss him properly, flicking her tongue into his mouth; a challenge and a dare which he rose to it with enthusiasm, pushing her back against the wall and lifting her hip so he could grind against her. Not to be outdone, Phryne wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and climbed him like a tree, bracing her back against the wall and wrapping both of her legs around his waist. He took her hard, against the wall, her back pressed into the soft, slightly fluffy fabric of the blackout curtains, their breath mingling in rough gasps as he fucked her with loving abandon. Her climax was a blinding flash, like summer lighting, her nails on his back biting into his skin as he spent inside her.

Jack leant his weight on his hands, pressed into the wall on either side of Phryne’s shoulders, and let her slide slowly off of him until her feet were resting on the ground once more. She was grinning up at him slightly dazedly, still holding on to his shoulders. Jack returned her smile with a bashful smirk, entirely lost for words; he had never in his life done something like that, allowed himself to lose control so completely, and he had done it, almost without thinking. It had been exhilarating, and as soon as his legs started working properly he planned to do it again, and as often as possible thereafter.

“You know, Jack,” Phryne was looking at him as if she could read his thoughts perfectly clearly, without the need for the Doctor’s psychic paper, “there is a very interesting looking bath in the other room that could use a little investigation.”

“You read my mind, Miss Fisher, ” he rumbled, and the two of them made their slightly unsteady way into the adjoining bathroom.

The water was pink, pleasantly warm and slightly scented; the smell made Phryne think of limes, although there was an ocean tang to it too. The sunken tub was more than big enough for the two of them to relax their aching muscles, and Phryne took the opportunity to extract and clean her Dutch cap which she had inserted it before they had left Melbourne; it was not really intended for such continuous use.

She also took the opportunity to splash Jack Robinson in the face, smirking at him in a challenge that threatened to spill over into laughter at any moment. Jack froze for a second in shock before he recovered sufficiently to retaliate – and with surprising enthusiasm. His large hand hit the surface of the water with a slap sending a wave of water up over Phryne’s chest, where it dripped down in enticing rivulets over her naked breasts. She was not to be outdone and happily responded with any and every weapon in her very distracting arsenal to retain the upper hand.

Their mingled screams of laughter echoed around the room as the water sloshed over the edge of the sunken bath, leaving little pools behind as evidence of their war of watery attrition. It only ended when Jack, after succumbing willingly to Phryne’s very persuasive kisses for a few moments, took the opportunity to pin her wrists above her head and tickle her mercilessly for her crimes. She shook against him with uncontrollable giggles until the slick of water that had spilled onto the floor reached as far as the bedroom door.

“Enough, enough!” she gasped between shouts of laughter that had left her breathless.

“Do you surrender, Miss Fisher?” Jack’s devious fingers paused at the point where her ribs met her belly but did no break contact with her skin.

“Never!” her eyes were sparkling up at him with a wild, blinding happiness that could easily outshine mere binary suns.

Jack thought of all those dark nights when she had been missing and he was unsure he would ever see her again and felt a lump catch in his throat. He did the only thing that made sense and kissed her again,F deep and raw and dizzying. They could call it a draw.  

“Rylia seems to agree with you, Jack.” Phryne remarked, after they had finally come up for air and she had settled herself comfortably in his lap, leaning her head back against his chest and luxuriating in the warm, fragrant water.

“Hmm, well we haven’t seen much of it yet,” he pointed out, “it must be the company.” She could feel him smiling as he kissed her damp hair.

“You know we are here on business, Inspector, somebody needs our help.”

He shook his head lazily, causing small droplets of water to flick off the ends of his hair.

“ _The Doctor_ is here on business. _I_ am here on holiday, and to ensure that my partner doesn’t get herself into too much trouble when she inevitably stumbles across a murder.”

Phryne tilted an admonitory scowl at him but didn’t contradict his statement; to be fair, he did have a point; she twisted round to grin in a way that was almost certainly a prelude to trouble.

“Well I hope your newfound liberal attitude extends to your wardrobe.”

He frowned and raised two questioning eyebrows at her. By way of answer, Phryne dragged him from the tub and sauntered over to the chest of drawers in the bedroom which she had been investigating when he returned from the bathroom earlier. By the look on her face, she had found whatever she had discovered in them to be deeply amusing.

Somewhat to Jack’s confusion, Phryne simply handed him a towel from one of the drawers and proceeded to extract one for herself, tousling her wet hair and running her fingers through it to comb it straight. Jack followed suit, still trying to work out what mortifying scheme she had in mind for him. Once he was reasonably dry he slung the towel around his waist, noting that it was not only extremely soft and fluffy, like all of the Rylian fabric he had encountered, but also had some convenient ties at the side so it could be secured around the waist without any danger of it falling off.

Phryne was still smirking at him. Having finished with her towel, she folded it neatly on top of the chest of drawers and extracted another, it was a deep purple which contrasted with the pale alabaster of her skin and made her blue eyes look astonishingly bright against the dark fringe of her hair. She tied it over her shoulder like a toga, in much the same way that the receptionist Lilia had worn her turquoise uniform.

Jack closed his eyes in resignation as a dawning realisation crept over him.

“When the Doctor said there was a dress code...?” he questioned, knowing the answer.

Phryne handed him a small card which had been set on top of the dresser. It read:

_Welcome to the Fountain of Youth Hotel and Spa Complex._

_Please be aware that the ocean steam in the lower levels of the complex may be damaging to off world fabrics. The Fountain of Youth is pleased to provide complementary towelwear for your comfort and convenience._

_Have a pleasant stay._

Jack stared at the card impassively for several seconds, considering his response. He was already so far out of his comfort zone he wouldn’t be able to see it, even with a telescope. Somehow, the addition of public nudity to his day seemed like something he should have been able to predict. His natural instinct was to refuse, or at least to complain about the latest ridiculous situation Miss Fisher had managed to drag him into. Then again, everyone else would be dressed the same way, and there was something to be said for surprising her.

He took the slightly damp towel from around his waist, folded it and placed it on top of Phryne’s discarded one. Then he extracted another from the drawer, it was a deep blue, not dissimilar to the colour of his suit. Opting to stick with tying it around his waist, which left him more exposed but felt like the more masculine style. He met Phryne’s eyes with a faint, self-depreciating smile and a slight shrug.

“When on Rylia, Miss Fisher.”

He was certain that the look of delighted astonishment on her face was easily worth any level of embarrassment the day had in store for him.

At this point, there was a knock at the door. Phryne, resplendent in her towel-wear, opened it to reveal the Doctor, also in a towel, hers a dark red, similar to that of her coat which she had evidently dispensed with. She had apparently found the need to make some modifications though; there was a rough pocket, apparently cut from another towel, sewn into the front with haphazard stitches, her sonic screwdriver poking slightly out of the top. The blackout curtains were still drawn in their room, but out in the corridor, white dawn was shining through the walls and ceiling in a brilliant mix of blues and purples, getting steadily brighter as the white sun Thangos rose and the red Alia set.

“Oh good, you’re up.”

Despite the quality of her towelwear, which was very much _de rigueur_ on Rylia, the Doctor was looking a little dishevelled. She had recently lost a large chunk of the hair at the front of her head – a casualty in a dramatic swordfight with a murderous alien warlord – and without her hat, the loss was much more noticeable. Her manner and expression were, by contrast, considerably more business-like than usual. She strode into the room without waiting to be invited and shut the door, then whipped out her sonic screwdriver and shorted out all of the electronics in the room.

“Myax is hiding something,” she announced into the darkness, “and I think we’re being watched.”

 

 

It had not taken the Doctor long, after she had donned her modified towel and headed out of Myax’s room, to realise that her hope of remaining incognito was already dead. Every security camera she passed turned towards her as she moved, and watching other guests as they walked by, it became clear that this was not an automatic feature. Someone was taking a particular interest in her.

By the time she had reached Phryne and Jack’s room this had begun to irritate her. It would have been easy enough to watch her without moving the cameras to track her progress, so someone wanted her to know she had been spotted. Did they think that would intimidate her? Not bloody likely. Once under the cover of darkness and secure in the knowledge that they were not being eavesdropped on, at least electronically, the Doctor explained her plans.

“We need to tread carefully,” she explained, “Myax won’t speak openly about what’s bothering them, but something is and I have a guess as to why they’re keeping quiet. There are electronic spying devices all over Rylia and they are tracking me. Someone knows I’m here.”

“Well you were invited, Doctor,” Phryne pointed out.  “Someone asked for your help. Do you think it was Myax?”

“Could have been, they are definitely worried about something. Communicating via psychic paper over distance is hard for a non-telepathic species, but it’s much easier if it’s someone you’ve been close to.”

“And you two were close?” Phryne asked, hoping to confirm her suspicions on that front.

“A life time ago,” the Doctor agreed, with the easy deflection of someone who had thousands of years of practice at avoiding questions they didn’t want to answer.

“We don’t have much to go on,” Jack pointed out, steering the conversation away from idle gossip towards the matter in hand. “There’s no evidence a crime has even been committed.”

Phryne repressed a smile despite the deft derailing of her enquiries into the Doctor’s love life - you couldn’t beat the policeman out of Jack with a big stick.

“There are a couple of things worth checking up on that Myax did tell me, ” The Doctor told them. “The owner of this place,  Jiat, has been showing more interest in the day to day running of it since he went through something called rejuvenation therapy. Apparently, they recently acquired some new technology which is making a lot of money for him.”

Jack still looked unconvinced; he did not feel especially inclined to trust anonymous messages at the best of times, and ones delivered on so-called ‘psychic paper’, even less so. Phryne, however was more interested.

“Do you suspect the owner is spying on you, Doctor?” She asked.

“Could be, he would certainly have access. We will have to see when we meet him, he’s joining us for breakfast.”

She led the way down the corridor towards the dining hall, followed by Phryne, who appeared as composed and at home here as she would have done anywhere on Earth, and Jack, who was surreptitiously adjusting his towel and trying hard to act as if the prospect of conducting an unknown investigation, within an uncertain legal framework, whilst practically naked, was completely acceptable and the sort of thing that might happen to him every day.

If Phryne had been paying attention she would probably have noticed his discomfort and either attempted to sooth it or make it worse, depending on which fancy struck her at the time. As it was, she had something she wanted to make certain of before she met the Doctor’s friend again.

“Doctor, I hope this isn’t an indelicate question,” it was of course, but she couldn’t think of a better way of finding out, “your friend, I’m afraid I’m not used to Rylian faces yet, is she...a she?”

The question came out more awkwardly than Phryne had intended, but it wasn’t one she was used to asking and she didn’t want to embarrass herself with a faux pas in front of Myax, who, apart from being the Doctor’s friend was also a potential suspect and a potential victim.

The Doctor had been busily glaring at a small spherical silver case, with what looked like a black glass orb inside. The orb was swivelling inside it’s metal shell, following their movements; the detectives assumed correctly that this was one of the electronic spying devices the Doctor had mentioned. She jerked her attention back to Phryne with a sympathetic smile.

“Not always an entirely relevant category on Rylia,” she explained gently, “or Earth during your more enlightened civilisations. Don’t worry, give it a century or so, yours will start to catch up.”

Seeing that Phryne still looked confused the Doctor took a small amount of pity on her. “Myax is a ‘they’, well, that’s the best the TARDIS can do in English anyway. It will work better in Swedish, do you speak Swedish?”

“Not well enough apparently.”

“Well don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”

Jack was somewhat relieved that Phryne had brought this up as there was no way on Earth or off of it that he would have done. It was not that he now understood exactly, it was that he was developing a new internal category for things he did not need to understand, merely to accept, along with time travel and the sight of binary suns shining through the walls of his hotel room.  

Any further conversation on the topic was cut short as they rounded the corner into the breakfast room where Jack found a plethora of new items to add to his list of acceptably unfathomable things. It was a large, although not quite as large as the cavern they had landed in, and much more crowded. There were circular tables and chairs in the same silver mesh as the rest of the Fountain of Youth’s furniture and a host of people –  mainly Rylians, but accompanied by a wide selection of other species – were enjoying an early meal amidst a hubbub of conversation.

Phryne and Jack did their best not to stare as they passed; there were a group of Ood at one table, their external brainstems held tenderly in their hands as they sang a prayer before eating; a copse of what Phryne recognised as Trees from Cheem, were supping on a rich muddy sludge through root like appendages protruding from their fingers. A group at the back, who looked like stocky men with the heads of Earth rhinoceroses, were laughing raucously as they munched on green leaved vegetables.

Over the crowd, the brilliant light of the white dawn was playing, all mauve and aquamarine, the pink slowly fading as the red sun dipped below the horizon. There were no blackout curtains on the ceiling of this room, and either the corridor had risen without their notice, or the surface of the land above was uneven; they could see the passing of clouds overhead through the near transparent ceiling that was all that stood here between them and the barren surface of the planet.

The Doctor led the way across the room to a private chamber, lit with the same brilliant light, but slightly cut off from the rest and with more elaborate carving on the walls providing relative privacy. Myax was already sitting there, along with another person whom they assumed to be Jiat, the owner of the Fountain of Youth.

Jack did not like him.


	5. Chapter Four: Unusual suspects

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Over breakfast the travellers learn a bit more about The Fountain of Youth and its owner Jiat before splitting up to investigate the origins of the mysterious note. The Doctor gets a highly informative haircut.

Jiat was a tall man, even taller than Myax; his silver fur was tipped with sable, so he seemed to shimmer as he moved, an effect which was amplified by the changing colour and intensity of the light. The black towel draped effortlessly around his trim waist revealed a toned, muscular figure which Phryne was regarding with unabashed enthusiasm. Jack was convinced that, had his chest not already been covered with a thick mane of fur, the man would definitely have been wearing a cravat.

Myax rose as they entered and greeted them all with genuine enthusiasm and a slightly apologetic smile as they introduced their employer, who was regarding both the Doctor and Phryne with interest. Phryne was well aware of her own appeal when it came to men and was trying hard not to laugh out loud at the irritable look on Jack’s face, whilst the Doctor was glancing around looking for any hidden cameras that might be watching them, completely oblivious to the man’s attentions.

“Doctor, this is Jiat, he owns The Fountain of Youth.” Said Myax, in an attempt to focus their friend’s obviously distracted attention.

Jiat greeted the Doctor by kissing her forehead, it was a common greeting on Rylia, although not much used with off-worlders. The Doctor mentally ran through her half-forgotten mental catalogue which detailed the social protocols of a myriad alien cultures, gave up and returned the gesture.

“Nice to meet you,” she lied; the man seemed boring enough, but there was a chance he might know something important. “These are my friends.”

On cue Phryne stepped forward, a little too enthusiastically for Jack’s liking, and traded forehead kisses with the hotel owner; the look on Jack’s face providing nothing but encouragement. “Phryne Fisher. This is a beautiful establishment Mr Jiat, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Thank you my dear, and yes, it’s the finest in over a dozen worlds,” the man responded proudly, “no need to take my word for it though, it’s won all sorts of awards. Myax will tell you, never had a head for keeping up with that sort of thing myself.”

Jiat turned a little reluctantly to introduce himself to Jack, who was rapidly reverting to Inspector Robinson, hampered somewhat by being dressed only in a towel. He stuck out his hand before the man could attempt to kiss his forehead.

“Jack Robinson, how do you do Mr Jiat?” he asked, with enough forced formality that Phryne had to cover a smile.

They all sat down to a breakfast of some sweet local vegetable, pale green and cut into cubes eaten off the end of delicate metal skewers. Phryne thought they tasted a little like lemon sherbets, but with the texture of ripe mango. Jack perked up considerably as he tucked into his breakfast, and the Doctor finally gave up trying to locate any spying equipment hidden around the room and turned her attention to their hosts.

The Doctor had intended to get Jiat talking about the goings on at the hotel, hoping he might let something slip which could shine some light on who had called them there and why, or at least let her know where on Rylia she might be able to get a haircut, but a few minutes of stilted conversation were enough to reveal that this regeneration had no capacity for small talk. Just as she was realising that Phryne might be the better party to conduct that particular interrogation, their meal was interrupted by a violent commotion.

It started as a noise, a rumbling, booming sound which reverberated off and through the walls until the whole cavern was trembling around them. After a few seconds it died down to a faint hum and then dissipated leaving an uncertain silence in its wake. Phryne’s initial assumption was that they had experienced an earthquake, a prospect she found extremely alarming. She had managed to overlook her general dislike of confined spaces thanks to the generous proportions of the rooms and the truly extraordinary nature of the place - which might in itself have been enough to quell any lingering feelings of disquiet. She drew the line, however, at being buried alive.

“What was that?” she asked in alarm. “Was it some kind of earthquake?”

“Oh no my dear, it’s just the wyrms in the deep, looking for their supper!”

Jiat’s playful, slightly condescending tone, earned him a calculating look from Phryne that brought an almost imperceptible smile to the corner of Jack’s mouth; the man appeared to be too much of a fool to recognise the dangers inherent in attempting to patronise Miss Fisher. Phryne on the other hand was resigning herself to the idea that there was a certain kind of male condescension which sadly seemed to transcend the species boundary. It was more a disappointment than a surprise. Given that hate-fucking the odious man into submission was off the table, she was going to have to find a better way to teach him not to underestimate the power of the feminine. Sadly, she had left her gun on the TARDIS and there was no room for a dagger in this outfit.

The Doctor had barely registered Jiat’s words, she was scanning the cavern walls with the sonic, frowning to herself and muttering under her breath.

“Was it an earthquake, Doctor?” Phryne asked again, ignoring Jiat’s remark with a polite disdain.

“Could be,” replied the Doctor vaguely, getting up to scan the wall directly behind Phryne. As the Doctor brushed past her, Phryne felt a slight weight against her ankle and a surreptitious glance down revealed that the Doctor had dropped her psychic paper and the leather wallet was now nudging against her bare feet. Catching on at once, she dropped one of her silver skewers onto the floor so she could retrieve it.

Inside was a message:

_I think it’s technology not geology at play here, although I’m not quite willing to rule out the space-wyrms. You and Jack follow up on the new tech and see if you can find out what Jiat knows. I’ll stick with Myax, they do not look happy._

Myax, who was oblivious to the clandestine exchange between the Doctor and Phryne, did not fail to notice the look of scepticism on Jack’s face at Jiat’s talk of wyrms. Not for the first time – or even the hundredth - they found their boss’s behaviour vaguely embarrassing, the man could make the rocks cringe at times. They had been to Earth with the Doctor on a few occasions, all of them much later in history than Jack and Phryne’s time, and in general they liked humans. Besides, Jack, whilst clearly spoken for, was really quite attractive, and Myax found they didn’t like the idea of him thinking badly of Rylia. Although, there were worse things on the lower levels than fairy tale monsters, as they knew all too well.

“It’s the ocean currents. As the sea moves with the suns, the water gets clogged in the lower caverns. It’s nothing to worry about,” they explained, to Jack’s genuine interest.

“A subterranean ocean? I imagine that’s quite a sight.”

He had been intrigued by the idea of the Rylian ocean ever since the Doctor had first mentioned it; he also felt a strong desire to reciprocate what he recognised as a friendly gesture and an endorsement of his scepticism from the Rylian. Myax projected an air of competence and approachable authority which inspired his respect, in fact he actually found them rather charming. Besides, with Phryne once again levelling the calculated power of her most lethal smile at Jiat, he felt a little tempted to remind his partner that she was not the only one who could play that game when it came to coaxing information from a suspect.

Sadly for Jack, letting other people get a word in edgeways was not Jiat’s speciality, and on overhearing his interest he muscled his way in on their conversation with the casual insolence of the outrageously wealthy.

“Oh yes we have wonderful access here, best there is. Still close enough to the surface for good light, the water’s warm and we have miles of coastal caves, plenty of privacy for our more…exclusive guests. You must all come and join me as soon as we’ve finished our meal.”

The invitation was extended to all but directed, with a pointed and lascivious smile, at Phryne, the Doctor having apparently lost his attention by virtue of ignoring him completely in favour of alternately doodling complex mathematical equations in the leftover juice from her breakfast and glowering at the floor as if it was keeping secrets from her. Jack exchanged a very sympathetic glance with Myax, thinking that this man could not be an easy one to work for. The look was not lost on Phryne, who noted it with a mixture of amusement, mild admiration for Jack’s skill as a flirt, and a tiny little spark of jealousy which she would never, ever admit to feeling.

Realising that she was going to have to find a way to pass on the Doctor’s instructions to Jack, Phryne lent forward conspiratorially, easily capturing Jiat’s attention and as she did so, slipped the psychic paper into Jack’s lap.

_‘Looks like you’ve made a friend, Inspector, but I’m afraid the Doctor is planning on commandeering them. You stick with our charming host, I’m going to track down another lead.’_

Jack was not entirely comfortable having to stay close to Jiat, who he was liking less and less by the minute, but was slightly mollified by the idea that Phryne’s plan had her rushing off in the other direction, although he doubted that decision was made for his benefit. In fact, Phryne had contemplated following Jiat herself, the man was clearly interested in her and therefore potentially easy to manipulate, however as a single meal in his company had been enough to have her fantasising about stabbing him with her breakfast skewer, she thought she would leave it to Jack. After all she was on holiday.

Jack found himself a little disappointed by the lack of information Phryne provided as to her own plans - they were supposed to be partners after all, and without his constabulary credentials he had no need for her to provide him with plausible deniability. She didn’t leave him in suspense long at least; her voice as she addressed their host was lower, as if communicating privileged information, but still perfectly audible to everyone at the table.

“That sounds marvellous Mr Jiat, but, please, satisfy my curiosity first. What is this rejuvenation therapy I’ve been hearing so much about?”

Jiat’s face lit up at that question, clearly it was one he loved answering. With her attention bent on their host, Phryne missed it, but both Jack and the Doctor noticed that Myax looked decidedly less happy. Interesting.

“Oh, RejuviTech has been the making of this place,” their host boomed out, enthusiastic as a schoolboy, “you wouldn’t believe what it can do; fix up any injury, repair ageing cells, restore a man’s youth and vigour…wonderful stuff. We can charge through the nose for it, of course.”

Jack was forcibly restraining himself from rolling his eyes -  it sounded like the same nonsense you could hear from any ten con artists you cared to name back on Earth, usually ones selling a ‘tonic’ made mainly of alcohol and some harmless or not so harmless herbal tincture. He had shut down at least one racket whose ‘revitalising remedies’ were as likely to kill you as make you forever young, at least if taken in sufficient quantities. He wondered if Myax’s obvious discomfort had to do with concern over the safety of the technology, or possibly a distaste for ripping off their customers.

Phryne, who had more than her fair share of experience when it came to con artists – her late father being a case in point – had also seen a little more of the miraculous technology to be found whilst traveling with the Doctor than Jack had. She was also by nature and inclination, more willing to accept the seemingly impossible, and therefore did not dismiss Jiat’s claim as easily as her partner had done – in fact she was honestly intrigued.

“That sounds quite extraordinary. I should love to see a demonstration.” She purred, relishing the familiar experience of getting what she wanted from a man who believed he held all the cards.

“I’m sure that could be arranged, Phrynefisher. I was going to take the Doctor to the hairdresser up in that direction anyway if you’d like to join us.” Myax interjected, smoothly overriding their boss’s bluster in a way that no-one else on the planet had ever been able to do.

They turned to Jack, eyes silently begging him to play along; clearly they wanted Jiat out of the way. He hoped Phryne would be able to find out what it was about this technology that had Myax so worried, preferably without too much risk to life and limb. He wasn’t especially concerned, Phryne was more than capable of taking care of herself, but having only recently acquired the privileged of viewing those limbs up close, he had a very personal interest in insuring they remained undamaged.

“If you would prefer to see the ocean I’m sure Jiat would be happy to take you,” Myax turned to Jiat, “no sense in us all crowding up to the Rejuvenation Chamber to just wait around, I’ll only be able to sneak one of our new friends in before the advanced bookings.”

Jiat looked rather as if he was about to object to this proposal but Phryne cut in.

“Well that’s settled then, you can show Jack all the best bathing spots, and we’ll come and join you when I’m fully rejuvenated.”

There was no arguing with Phryne Fisher at the best of times - as Jack could have told the man - but when she was pouting like that and wearing nothing but a towel? The poor bastard never stood a chance. The two men departed the table in a slightly awkward silence to head towards the ocean, whilst Myax and the two women made for the Relaxation Rooms, a multilevel spa-complex which began on the floor below.

Phryne couldn’t help notice as they followed the Doctor’s friend along the crystal corridors and down the beautiful, ornately carved staircase beyond, that the Time Lady had been all but silent since the rumbling that had shaken the room during breakfast. She was glancing from Myax to the silver spying-orbs which lined the corridors and frowning. Finally, pausing at a spot where it appeared they were unobserved by any unseen eyes, she fished the psychic paper from her pocket and handed it to the Rylian.

Phryne didn’t see the Doctor’s message:

_‘You were lying, whatever that was it was not the sea.’_

Or Myax’s response:

_‘Careful Doctor, not here, someone is watching.’_

But she caught the look that passed between them; seemingly, trouble was brewing, perhaps they were going to encounter space-wyrms after all.

 

 

The Doctor and Myax dropped Phryne off at another silver door, inlayed with the intricate filigree pattern that was repeated throughout the establishment’s decor. The words Rejuvenation Centre were carved into the rock in an arch above the door. They waved her off with a whispered admonition to be careful and try not to kill anyone from the Doctor, which Phryne responded to with her best ‘of course not, I’m a professional’ head tilt. (Honestly it wasn’t as if she was even armed.)

The two old friends continued up the corridor without speaking. They met no-one; it was still early morning and most of the guests had not yet left the breakfast hall. This section of the hotel wouldn’t officially open for another hour and the early light of Thangos, fully risen and finally alone in the sky, had immersed them in a bright blue silence, like a still morning on the open ocean. It did not escape the Doctor’s notice that this particular ocean appeared to be hiding unknown monsters. It had been a long time since she had last known Myax, but her friend had never one to scare easily. Since leaving the breakfast table a stream of palpable fear had been rushing off them like an icy current from dark depths of the underground sea.

They entered the empty hairdressing salon, which was a medium sized room kitted out with sliver chairs, a large stock of small silver baths – Rylian hairdressing could get quite involved given the amount of hair they had – and a number of beautifully carved silver mirrors fixed directly into the stone of the walls. The place had a clean ‘not yet open for business’ feel, despite the brightness of the sunlight seeping through the walls and reflecting off the beautiful metallic furniture, which glowed blue, as if the whole place was carved out of chunks of sky.

Myax gestured to a chair set in front of one of the mirrors and busied theirself amongst the selection of brushes and combs. The Doctor took a seat, watching the Rylian intently; their expression was still wary, more so than before, and they were fiddling with a small metal toothed comb and a pair of sharp, sliver bladed scissions. To the Doctor it looked like they were waiting for something, or stealing themselves to do something that frightened them. She tensed her arms very slightly against the chair and waited.

She was not afraid of Myax; even in this new body, much smaller than the ones she was used to, she had been the easy victor in a fight against a Sycorax nearly twice her size. But she was afraid of whatever could tempt Myax to consider anything so foolish as attacking a Time Lady - especially the Doctor - when they knew full well they didn’t stand a chance. There was clearly something rotten in the state of Rylia, the Doctor was determined to find out what.

Myax was smiling a little nervously, holding a flat, soft brush loosely in their fingers. It was not much in terms of a weapon, so the Doctor relaxed a bit. They spun the Time Lady around in the silver chair so she was facing the mirror, their eyes wide and sky-blue in the reflection. The Doctor could see their hands tremble slightly as they gripped the brush. Softly, they began to stroke it through the scraggle of golden hair that stretched to her waist, shining silver in the blue light. Myax teased out the knots with a lover’s care and when they spoke, their voice was wistful, even sad.

“Do you remember the last time I did this for you?”

“I had a bit less hair back then.” The Doctor acknowledged the memory, awkwardly. The gentle strokes of the brush were evoking sensory memories from another body, one far more interested in the joys of physicality, and far less concerned by the relative youth of the rest of the universe. It was disconcerting, the echo of a desire she no longer felt. Somewhere, just outside the range of her internal monologue, her previous regeneration was spouting excuses and apologies for his reprehensible behaviour that she was having to work hard to keep inside her head. You could not live your lives as a Time Lord constantly apologising for what your last body did. You’d never stop.

Myax was no longer meeting her eyes in the mirror; they were watching the sun through the walls, smoothing the Doctor’s hair around the section where the Sycorax captain had sliced off a chunk of it, missing the Doctor’s head by inches. They drew a slow breath, steadying theirself, and extracted an object from an ornate display case, proudly embossed with the RejuviTech logo. It was a slim sliver tube, thinner than the Doctor’s sonic, more like a conductor’s baton, with a hollow end. There were symbols carved into it, too small to make out in the mirror.

Myax’s hand was shaking even more as they held it up to the Doctor’s temple next to the chunk of missing hair.

“Do you know what this is?” Myax asked, their voice shaking now; they were buying time, or perhaps hoping that the Doctor would recognise something in this technology that would prevent them from having to admit what their culpable silence might have cost.

“Myax, you know you can trust me, I can help you. Tell me what’s wrong.” The Doctor’s voice had the steady neutral warmth of a hostage negotiator; it seemed to work, Myax’s hands were no longer shaking but tears were forcing their way out of their eyes, leaving damp trails in the silver-blue of their fur.

“I…I wanted to stop them Doctor. I should have stopped them but they’ve taken him. They’ve taken him and I’m afraid they’ll kill him.”

“Who has? Who have they taken?” The Doctor was exercising all of her very limited patience not to start shouting in frustration. This was why she kept humans around, she was no good when things got weepy.

Myax shook their head, overcome, and whispered in the voice of someone who had witnessed this terror first hand. “You’re going to be so angry.”

“Why, Myax? Why will I be angry?” She was fighting hard to keep the edge off her voice, coaxing more information out.

Myax shook their head, still avoiding the question, and flicked the silver wand forward. It emitted a low buzzing hum and a golden light shot from the tip; they swept it slowly over the Doctor’s damaged hair which grew back in a perfect curl, as if it had never been severed.

The Doctor’s storm cloud eyes darkened in cold fury and horror. Her hand shot out, gripping Myax’s wrist and forcing the wand away, snatching it for examination. The action seemed to flick the light off, but the Doctor barely needed conformation. The light had been regeneration energy, emanating from a machine. Something which should definitely not be possible.

There was only one explanation. Somewhere on this planet was another Time Lord, and they were in trouble.


	6. Chapter Five: RejuviTech

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In true feline form, Miss Fisher's curiosity leads to possible trouble when she meets Dr Monya, corporate representative for Rejuvenation Technologies Inc.

Phryne entered the Rejuvenation Centre, exuding the cheerful confidence that often distracted onlookers from the fact that she was mentally cataloguing every detail of her surroundings in search of clues. The first thing she noticed in this room was the smell. Not unpleasant exactly - it was a metallic, chemical scent, clean and sharp like burnt magnesium.

The room was smaller than the breakfast hall but still a reasonable size, with a panel of computer banks along one wall. Phryne recognised them only vaguely from the discarded piles of mechanical junk she had seen in the depths of the TARDIS but had no idea as to their function. Lights were winking and blinking across various surfaces, along with a range of circular symbols which were flicking at speed over the screens; for an instant, just as she walked in, Phryne thought she could make out a clear, moving image, like a miniaturised cinema screen, on one of the displays, but it was gone before she could get a proper look. The circular symbols which replaced it looked somehow familiar, but she could not think where she had seen the like before.

In pride of place, the centre of the far wall, there was a large, rectangular box, close in size to the outside of the TARDIS but made in the same silver filigree style as the rest of the Fountain of Youth furniture. This, whatever it was, must be the RejuviTech she had come to investigate. Gleaming coils of shiny black cables snaked out from it to the banks of computer terminals which Phryne made an educated guess were some kind of operating mechanism.

The room was not deserted. A woman in white towelwear was standing by the screens, staring at the readout; not standard staff uniform then, interesting. She turned around to greet Phryne with a smile that radiated the sugary sincerity of a practiced liar. To Miss Fisher’s surprise the woman looked basically human except for her hair, which was cut even shorter than Phryne’s and was an eye-watering shade of magenta, almost violet in the blue light. Not that looks meant much of course, the Doctor proved that.

“Hello. Welcome to the Rejuvenation Centre. How can I help you today?”

There was a glossy formality to the woman’s speech, almost as if it was learned by heart, but Phryne was used to the superficial politeness of service staff so this did not seem overtly suspicious. She countered, as she always did, by trying to find a friendly crack in that social armour she could work her way into.

“Phryne Fisher,” she extended her hand. “Myax and Mr Jiat sent me to have a look at your marvellous new technology. Apparently the demonstration is well worth seeing.”

“Of course, right this way.”

The words still had the same corporate ring to them, but perhaps with a hint of genuine interest, although Phryne suspected that despite her many captivating qualities, it was likely the name dropping that had caught the woman's interest; it always paid well to keep in with anyone who knew the boss.”

The woman ushered Phryne over to a large, comfortable seat next to the rack of beeping machinery and produced a small rectangular box, about the size of a pack of playing cards, which looked like it was made of opaque black glass. She waved it vaguely up and down Phryne’s body. It beeped. A fresh ream of symbols appeared on the screen behind her, incomprehensible to Phryne but which seemed perfectly legible to the woman in white.

“Human I see, how lovely. We don’t see many of you in this part of the galaxy. And a time traveller too? You must have quite a story to tell.”

This seemed a bit more like it, Phryne thought, although she noticed the subtle invitation to talk about herself and that was not what she was here for. She deflected easily.

“I’m traveling with some friends. Not much of a story to tell so far, Rylia was practically our first stop. And you, Miss…?” she lest the question hang in the air a little in the hope of extracting at least some information.

“Doctor Monya. I’m here to represent Rejuvenation Technologies Incorporated and supervise the use of the Rejuvenation Chamber.” There was a rote, repetitive edge to the woman’s professionalism, as if she was running through the social niceties on automatic whilst the rest of her mind was elsewhere. “Looking at your charts, I can see a certain amount of superficial damage, some bruising and abrasions around the base of the skull and on the outer extremities which should be easy to correct.”

Phryne had been wondering about that. She had only recently escaped relatively unscathed from a serious plane crash and whilst the Doctor had provided her with a hot bath and a stiff drink, that had been the extent of her medical care. She remembered the soft pressure of Jack’s mouth against her injuries, no recrimination or criticism, just a quiet acknowledgement and attention, as if he could wash away all the pain those little marks represented with the brush of his lips against her tender skin. She shivered at the memory and got a grip on herself. Where love had failed, perhaps technology could step in; she would like to be free of the physical reminders of her own failure each little scab represented.

“Aside from that you seem fairly healthy, although there are a few anomalies in your time stream which might benefit from a closer look.” Dr Monya was listing these ailments in an impassive, almost bored voice, as if they were things she encountered every day and continued with, “not using any contraception, I notice. If you are trying to conceive we have a number of useful aides in stock. The Rejuvenation Therapy is only the latest in a wide range of services we provide.”

Phryne did a brief double take, followed by a broad, delighted smile. She had spent a considerable amount of money, and a reasonable amount of time, back on Earth trying to facilitate access to contraception and arguing against the stigma associated with it, and to have the issue brought up so casually by a doctor who had not even enquired about her marital status, suggested an ethical standard much more in keeping with her own _excellent_ principles than the tired morality of the society she normally lived in. Having said that, the question of children was one she was not keen to dwell on. It was one of a number of Conversations she imagined she was going to have to have with Jack at some point. Hopefully some point a long way in the future, after they had filled up the intervening period with a variety of much more entertaining activities.

The slight awkwardness the train of thought had inspired was compounded a little by the growing feeling that she was fumbling in the dark here. It wasn’t only that she lacked leads on the case – if it even was a case – she knew nothing about this world, and it was harder to win by being willing to break rules in unexpected ways when you had no idea what the rules were. Contraception however was something she felt she could talk about so she did what she always did when she didn’t know what else to do and pushed forward with confidence in the hope that it would surface.

“I’m afraid dealing with infants is not really my forte. I do already take precautions where family planning is concerned, but if you have a wide range of services in that department I would be very interested to hear about them.”

 “Naturally. What are you currently using? I can’t say I’m especially well versed in the specifics of your time period, although I have visited your planet. Some time ago now.”

Phryne explained the mechanics of her diaphragm with enthusiasm, complete with a litany of complaints about the difficulties faced by poor and unmarried women in accessing family planning of all kinds. Dr Monya looked frankly horrified.

“Well that won’t do at all. I’m amazed that something so crude has been effective as long as it has, and I can certainly provide you with something much less cumbersome.”

Phryne was half tempted to defend Marie Stopes’ marvellous work, which had, albeit often in combination with other methods, successfully preventing her ever needing to seek out the services of an illegal abortionist. It was something she was profoundly grateful for, even though the medical standards she could expect as a woman of means would be far an above the butchery endured by those without her wealth and status. However, she couldn’t help feeling both excited and fascinated to see what advancements the Rylians – or whatever species Dr Monya was - had made in this area, so she bit back on the comment and instead asked:

“I’d be delighted to find out more Dr Monya, but would it work on human physiology? You said yourself we aren’t frequent visitors to this part of the galaxy.”

“Oh yes, no problem there.” The doctor turned to a cupboard set along the opposite wall to the bank of computers and typed a series of numbers into a small keypad. The cupboard slid back and she selected a small box from amongst a large selection of what was apparently medical equipment, although not anything Phryne even remotely recognised.

“Hold out your hand please,” she requested, her bland bedside manner now brisk and business-like.

Phryne did so, feeling pleased that she had managed to not only break the ice, but to find a thoroughly unexpected means to improve her plans for the day. If this worked Jack was going to be thrilled, she would make thoroughly sure of it.

Dr Monya tipped something out of the box onto Phryne’s outstretched palm; it was a flat disk, about the size of a shilling, and had the sticky, nauseating texture of the gelatine Mr B sometimes used for cooking. It looked like the same shade of translucent blue as the walls, although most things did, given the colour of the prevailing light in the room. The inside was filled with a criss-cross spider webbing of silver lines which were undulating slowly as if alive. As Phryne watched, and before she could ask what she was supposed to do with the thing, it vanished. Or more accurately it was absorbed without a trace through the skin of her hand. She felt a momentary shiver of cold in her palm then nothing. It was disconcerting, and she was at something of a loss to work out exactly how this was supposed to prevent pregnancy.

“Is that it?” she asked, a little sceptically. “How does it work?”

“It’s basic nano-technology,” the other woman responded, as if this was in any way an explanation. “The nano-machines inside the gel form an internal barrier blocking conception, and if that fails, they automatically terminate any fertilised eggs. The control mechanism is telepathic as they make a link into your brainstem, if you want to remove it just hold out your hand and think them back out again.” For the first time, the woman’s voice took on an edge of animation, if anything seemed able to stir her it was apparently science. She should introduce the woman to Jack, Phryne thought; no doubt they'd be equally enthused, and by the end of the day Jack might very well want to thank her in person.”

Phryne wasn’t sure that thinking the thing out of her body was going to work, but she was nothing if not game for new experiences so she did as Dr Monya suggested. The gelatinous blue disk reappeared on her hand and Phryne picked it up between two fingers to examine it; the slowly oozing lines of silver were still there and seemed somehow drawn to the warmth of her fingers where they were touching the gel. It was a little unnerving, but she decided that if the thing turned out to be dangerous it seemed easy enough to get rid of, so she put it back on her palm and let it sink once again through her skin.

The other woman had turned back to the panel of blinking lights and symbols, apparently intrigued by what she saw, but did not volunteer any further information to Phryne.

“Is there a problem Dr Monya?” she asked, trying to draw the woman’s attention back to her. The technology she had acquired might be very useful in a personal capacity, but it was the RejuviTech the Doctor had asked her to investigate.

“Oh yes, quite alright. Although I can see here that you’ve got a bit more damage than just a few cuts and bruises. Have you spoken to anyone about the anomalies in your timeline?”

Phryne felt a little uncertain about this. The Doctor was the only person who seemed to know anything about the accident with some malfunctioning alien technology which had damaged Phryne’s timestream, and the Doctor was not especially forthcoming when it came to divulging information. She certainly hadn’t suggested that there might be a way of repairing the damage.

Phryne did not know this Dr Monya, did not know this planet, and she was here because someone somewhere had begged for her Doctor’s help. Then again, she did not really know her Doctor very well either and was getting a little tired of feeling like she was two steps behind in the brave new world the Time Lady had led her into. Perhaps this might be an opportunity to get herself back where she belonged, out in front, leading the way. After all, her new friend was a doctor herself - she might know things Phryne’s Doctor didn’t - and at least this one had an actual name.

“My friend said that the anomalies were stable as long as I avoid certain time periods. She never suggested anything could be done to fix them?”

Phryne let the question hang in her voice, letting curious eyes wander visibly to the Rejuvenation Chamber on the wall, hoping that the conversation would start to move in that direction without obvious prompting. Finally, Dr Monya decided to start elaborating on the subject.

“Oh, that would normally be true, it’s a very unusual condition you have. From what I can tell you have too much life, compressed into too little life-span. Very dangerous if it starts spreading, but with RejuviTech we can extend the span of your life backwards, straighten out all the kinks in the timeline without making you any older in the present.”

“That sounds simple enough.” Phryne was doing her best to keep up; she didn’t have Jack’s default scepticism when it came to the possibilities of technology beyond Earth, but still, she wasn’t certain this was the best idea. “What’s the catch?”

Phryne was scrutinising the other woman with care, looking for any slip in the bland mask of customer service politeness, seeking some hint of emotion which could belie sinister motives or uncertainty.

“There’s no risk involved, RejuviTech has a 100% safety record and a money back guarantee,” the woman said, her face remaining almost completely impassive being her sterile smile; there was something there though, professional intrigue perhaps, or curiosity. She had said that Phryne's was an unusual case. “Although perhaps if you know Jiat he might have arranged a discount?” Perhaps it was her connection with the hotel’s owner that had piqued the woman’s interest.

“I’m sure we can come to some arrangement.” Phryne added with a suggestive inflection that was as much down to habit as any interest whatsoever in Jiat – after all, she had a far more interesting prospect on offer. Jack had looked marvellous and far too relaxed in that towel; she was going to have to up her game to see just how far her Inspector could be persuaded to go, now he was off duty and far away from home.

“If you would like to step into the Rejuvenation Chamber, we can fix your superficial injuries at the same time.” Dr Monya opened the door for her and beckoned Phryne forward.

Making her decision, Phryne marched into the small silver box, finding that, unlike the TARDIS, the internal dimensions were at least smaller than the external ones. In fact, there was barely room to sit down. Dr Monya maintained her frozen, cheerless smile as she closed and locked the door with a clunk. As she was shut inside Phryne’s misgivings about this idea began to grow; she had never been entirely comfortable with enclosed spaces. flashes of old childhood punishments floated to the surface of her mind to only to be beaten into submission; she did not have time for those ghosts to haunt her now.

The machine began to hum, a tinny electrical sound that grew louder and rose in pitch, increasing the feel of claustrophobia that was beginning to make Phryne’s heart race. Clouds of smoke began to billow from the floor, clearly this was the source of the burnt magnesium scent she had noticed on first entering the room. Phryne pulled up the hem of her towelwear and covered her mouth against the blinding smoke which she expected to choke her, but to her surprise it did not. In fact, despite the smell it slipped into her lungs as easily as the air around it.

She began to feel relaxed and happy, her mind slipping a little, throwing up old dreams and recent memories; her and Janey in a tin bath playing at pirates, the first new dress her mother had bought for her after they had inherited their fortune, a beautiful man from Morocco, or was it Madagascar, who had charmed her once in a Spanish marketplace. She saw Mac, greeting her off the ship on her return to Melbourne, and Jane, all shy eyes and wonder in her blue flower maiden dress. She saw Jack, smiling at her over the first glass of whiskey they shared, then diving into the waves at Queenscliff providing her with a fabulous view and with that confident smirk that let her know he knew she was watching and was quite happy for her to continue. The memories sped up and blurred, a touch of a hand, a fragment of caress, the impression of closeness and sweetness and love lulling her into dreamy haze. She tried to fight it, to remember where she was and focus on the tangible reality of the metal seat beneath her, but the smoke was so thick she couldn’t see anything to concentrate on. Her breathing slowed to a gentle rhythm and her muscles went lax; she slumped back into the seat wearing a vague, happy smile.

Light erupted without warning from the walls of the little cell, it was a brilliant mottled gold and coated her in an incandescent fire which snapped her body to rigid attention. Twitching spasms slammed her against the seat and her mind was full of nothing but a tingling pins and needles pain, not agonising but all encompassing, spreading throughout her body until it filled her world from end to end.

It lasted only a few seconds; it felt longer.

The smoke which filled the little room had begun to dissipate, and Phryne was no longer hallucinating, but the lingering effects were enough to curb the horror and panic left behind by the pain of the golden light. There was a hiss as the door opened, letting Phryne step out – with the full intention of finding out from Dr Monya what the hell she had just experienced.

The room was deserted. The screens where the strange lights and symbols had been flickering were completely blank.

Phryne let out a Collingwood curse that would have horrified her finishing school teachers. Whether it was the memory inducing qualities of the smoke or something else, she had realised where she had seen those symbols before.

She needed to find the Doctor.         


	7. Chapter Six: Culture Shock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack gets his Detective Inspector face on despite the lack of pockets in his towel and the Doctor makes a disturbing discovery.

Jack followed Jiat out of the breakfast room, heading towards the lift that would take them down towards the underground ocean. If he was honest he was currently feeling not merely two steps behind but an entire flight of very steep stairs. He was dealing with this in the best way he knew how; by watching the world unfold with the most impassive face he could manage and trying to piece together the puzzle as he went along.

It did not help that he was apparently investigating a crime, despite having no evidence one had happened yet; psychic paper remained inadmissible evidence in his world until it’s reliability was more conclusively proven. It did not help that he lacked his customary layers of armour - not just his clothing, although he did feel especially exposed in his towelwear - but his position. The lack of pockets really did not help.

The problem was, he had become used to holding institutional authority, to having a host of officers under his command who, whilst they might vary in their levels of competence, ethics and judgement, would more or less all follow his orders. Now he was negotiating a world where he had no authority and his companions were two women who would, at best, take his suggestions under advisement, and knowing Phryne, ignore them entirely if she felt the need to. He had no idea whatsoever what to expect from the Doctor, but his every instinct suggested that what he should expect was trouble writ large.

Then again, he had seen binary suns rise and set through the walls of crystal catacombs on an alien world, and a citizen of that world was about to show him an underground ocean. He fought the urge to smile, as he realised just how much he would rather be here than sat behind his desk any day of whatever passed for a week on Rylia.

They entered the lift which would take them down through the many levels of twisting corridor to the sea below. The stationary travel at least allowed Jack to lean against a wall, which made him feel a little more at home, although the lack of pockets in his towelwear still felt like a far greater loss than it should have done. He kept his face blank, waiting, trying to read the man in front of him as he would a suspect. Jack had no context for Rylian body language, but the impression he got was of affable narcist, rather than a criminal mastermind. Not that they had, as yet, any evidence of a crime, he reminded himself, and all of the conjecture came from the Doctor, a woman who he liked, but was not entirely sure he trusted.

Silence had always been an effective interrogation technique for him, and the Inspector was pleased to find that it seemed just as effective on Rylia. Perhaps Jiat, with all his money and influence (not to mention his good looks) was unused to having to work to please people. He seemed keen to try and curry favour.

“Do you have oceans on your planet then, Jackrobinson?” Jiat asked, running the name together into one word; it took Jack a second to realise that all of the Rylians he had met had used only one name.

“Please, call me Jack,” he volunteered, offering up a brief smile that stopped just short of his eyes, “and yes, the city I live in is on the coast of the Pacific Ocean, but I can’t say I’ve ever seen one underground before.”

Apparently delighted that they did in fact have something in common, Jiat turned curious eyes on him.

“An ocean on the surface? We have them on some parts of the planet but they are mostly too cold and dangerous to swim in, exposed to the elements like that. Is it the same for yours?”

“No, well, not always.” Jack was an avid swimmer in his time off, although as a police officer he knew all too well that the waters around Melbourne were not always the safest, and not only because of the sharks. “It can be a bit bracing in the winter, but in fine weather it’s alright. I take it the ocean here is warmer, the brochure in our room mentioned it gives off steam?”

“Oh yes, there are hot springs way beneath the surface, we are very lucky here. They say bathing in the waters can make you young again,” he leant in conspiratorially as if divulging privileged information, “just a bit of nonsense for the tourists of course.”

“Of course,” this time Jack’s smile held at least a modicum of actual amusement, “like the wyrms?”

Jiat laughed. “Yes, just an old superstition, something to stop children from straying into the more dangerous areas on the lower levels. No if you really want something to make you young again, you need RejuviTech.”

“Really?” Jack’s voice managed to conceal most of the heavy scepticism he felt about that claim, interjecting enough curiosity to avoid offending the man; he was supposed to be getting information out of Jiat after all, and apparently the hotelier was in the mood to talk.

“Oh yes. I know how it sounds bloody stupid, but it’s true. Would it surprise you to know, Jack, that I’m almost two-hundred years old?”

Jack raised his eyebrows, “I take it’s that’s unusual for members of your species? Humans rarely live more than 80 years or so.”

“So young, really? No, it’s considered an impressive count of years but it’s not unheard of on Rylia. Sill, here I am, fit as I was at sixty-five, free to enjoy my youth all over again and I intend to. Speaking of which, you have an excellent taste in traveling companions, are they available?”

Jack did not like the way that question was phrased, as if his friends were goods at a market available for purchase, and he responded curtly.

“No.”

It was possible that he would get into trouble, speaking for Phryne like this, and goodness only knew what the Doctor’s proclivities were in that area, but he would cross that bridge when he came to it. Right now, he was not interested in pursuing that line of investigation. The conversation about monogamy was one which he and Phryne had not exactly had, excepting a drunken outburst before she had left Melbourne which he still could not remember either with clarity, or without a sharp pang of mortifying embarrassment. He felt sure, almost sure, that he and Phryne were on the same page in that regard, and for now there was enough going on that he was willing to let the matter lie until it became necessary to discuss it.

His train of thought, and the uncomfortable direction of the conversation, were brought to a merciful close by the arrival of the lift at the ocean level. The sight that greeted them when the silver filigree doors slid noiselessly open was like nothing Jack could ever have imagined.

The cavern it opened onto was vast, larger even than the one in which they had landed and higher than any of the others he had seen. The light which still reached them from the white sun was a deeper blue at this depth, as if they were already beneath the waves of a vast ocean; hundreds of bright lights shone through the ceiling and walls, and even a few in the floor. Apparently at this depth even Thangos at its zenith needed a little assistance.

Spread out before them, gentle ripples reflecting and refracting the light, was the ocean. It was calm and still without any noticeable waves, just little swirls and undulations where boats and swimmers splashed and danced in the indigo water, deeper and darker than any Jack had seen on Earth. The beaches were coated with a pale sand, silver where the artificial light touched it, but shaded into a cool, gentle blue where the sun broke through the many fathoms of rock above them. The coast wound off in either direction for perhaps half a mile, where it began to fragment once more into the tunnels and corridors familiar from the upper levels; the dark water lapped into the caves creating exciting private pools and secret tunnels just begging to be explored.

Jack’s first though was that this scene wouldn’t have been out of place in the court of Oberon and Titania. The Rylians, with their long silver fur wet and slicked back, looked lithe as seals and just as graceful diving and dancing through the still water. They were joined by a bewildering number of species, from the beautiful - such as the willowy Trees of Cheam, their roots snaking through the sandy soil - to the downright alarming. He could see a person – he made a conscious effort not to think ‘creature’ - lounging in the shallow water, who looked somewhere between a walrus, a slug and a flowering shrub. Their stalk-like eyes (they were probably eyes) were at first furled tight, but as Jack watched, failing entirely not to stare, they unravelled like kale, dropping fat, green petals onto the surface of the water, upon which they slowly extended a long purple tongue, lapping up the fallen shreds of eyeball and swallowing them. It took less than a second for the eyes to reappear, tight as cabbages upon their stalks once more.

Jack wondered what kind of strange creatures might actually live in an ocean like this, and for the first time the idea of prehistoric space-wyrms did not seem so ridiculous. The people alone were enough to make him think that. There were hundreds of them, relaxing on the sandy shore and chasing each other in and out of the waves; it could have been a scene from a sunny day at Queenscliff or St Kilda, except that they were so very obviously alien, and so very obviously naked. Apparently - possibly due to the inhabitants’ permanent coat of silky fur - bathing costumes had never become a fashion on Rylia. For a man from a culture which, until recently, had laws to prohibit men and women from bathing on the same part of the beach, it was quite a culture shock. 

He realised Jiat was talking to him again.

“What do you think, Jack? Fancy a swim?”

Jack closed his eyes, hollowing his cheeks to keep from smiling as he found himself asking the question: what would Phryne Fisher do?

 

“Start from the beginning.”

Having finally got Myax in a position where they were willing to talk, the Doctor was determined to get all the information she could before tearing this planet apart looking for whoever or whatever had provoked such uncharacteristic fear in her friend. Not to mention whatever had caused that golden light to spill out from a cosmetic appliance in a hairdressers. That had shaken her a little, and the Doctor was not an easy woman to shake. Regeneration was a unique phenomenon, a way for the people of Gallifrey to cheat death, passing from one body to another, becoming a new person but retaining the core of the old. Through death and rebirth they were connected to the universe, could manifest as any gender, any race, resemble many species – although most appeared roughly human if you didn’t look too closely. If they were honest (which was rare) even the Time Lords didn’t really know how the process worked, and if someone was messing around with it on Rylia, the whole planet could be in danger. Also, the only place you could get regeneration energy as far as the Doctor knew, was a living Time Lord, but if you kept draining the energy from them, they would not stay living for long.

Myax was staring at their hands and inwardly cursing their own stupidity for not realising what that light meant. They had seen the chamber and what it could do and…well, there was something else they would need to let the Doctor know.

“The RejuviTech, this is what it is, regeneration energy? I should have realised sooner, I knew about regeneration. I’d never seen it though, not in all the time I travelled with you, I just didn’t make the connection.”

Their voice was low, thick with guilt but steady; the Doctor was torn. She had left Phryne in the Rejuvenation Centre, and although Miss Fisher was a very capable woman, she had no idea what she had been sent into.

“Is Phryne safe?”

It had to be her first consideration, you cannot bring children out into the universe unless you mean to look after them.

“Yes, at least there’s no reason to assume she wouldn’t be. I thought she could be a distraction. I needed to make sure the woman who runs it, Dr Monya, wasn’t watching us.”

The Doctor was not convinced; whoever this Dr Monya was, she had been watching the Doctor since she arrived, and the Doctor’s enemies were forever trying to get to her through her friends. That it never ended well for them just didn’t seem a sufficient deterrent.

“We need to get back to Phryne. Tell me everything you know, now, Myax. If anything has happened to her it will be my fault, do you understand?” her voice was rough, her rage burning hot and barely contained, building to a detonation. Myax nodded, cowering at the Doctor’s anger but willing to give her information at last.

“I didn’t like the RejuviTech, it seemed far too good to be true - and the fact that no-one else had heard of it… it didn’t feel right. But Jiat, after he went through the process… he was obsessed, he wouldn’t listen to reason. He had the tech installed and started getting more involved in the day to day running of the hotel, employing staff over my head, that sort of thing, as if he didn’t trust me anymore.” They shook their head regretfully. “It all seemed like a problem but, a normal problem. The kind that would eventually lead to a lawsuit at most…then, we had another visitor.”

“Who?”

The Doctor was racking her brains to think of anyone who might be able to pull off this kind of stunt, and had begun to reach a very uncomfortable conclusion. Myax’s response was therefore a surprise.

“A friend of yours from Gallifrey, he calls himself the Corsair.”

The Doctor smiled sadly at that; the Corsair was a Time Lord (and occasional Time Lady) who she had known throughout several regenerations. He was also dead, not that this meant much to a time traveller. A few millennia back she had found his remains lost on a parasite world outside of this universe, it was nice to think that their association wasn’t yet over.

“Yes, I know the Corsair. Why was he here?”

Honestly, even with Myax’s co-operation it was like pulling teeth, which she might resort to if her friend didn’t hurry up with this story so she could go and check on Phryne. She was feeling more and more concerned about what might be happening to her, and if Jiat was involved, Jack too might not be safe. Letting Myax split them up was seeming like less and less of a good idea, but the Doctor had been sure at the time that it was the only way to get her friend talking.

“He was sent to arrest someone. A Time Lady, or possibly Time Lord, - they had regenerated recently, he didn’t know what they looked like. He was…well, Doctor, you know I never could resist a Time Lord,” their slight smile was not a happy one, it was not a preference which had ever brought Myax anything but grief in the long term. “Once I felt I could trust him, I told him about Dr Monya and my suspicions; he went to confront her, then I never saw him again.”

Myax’s face was anguished. Clearly, they cared for the Doctor’s friend a good deal.

“Then I got a message on my console, telling me that if I told anyone else he would die, in pain and over and over again until he ran out of regenerations. I didn’t know what to do.”

The psychic paper, thought the Doctor, sending a message over the kind of distance it had taken to reach her was not an easy feat for a non-telepathic species like the Rylians, but if there was another Time Lord here somewhere, amplifying their cry for help…that would do it.

“The message on your console was from this Dr Monya?”

“I assume so, it was anonymous, but who else could it be?”

The Doctor nodded slowly, it did seem the most likely conclusion, although maintaining anonymity seemed strange given how obvious that conclusion was.

“Could it have been Jiat? He might be more involved in this than you know and want to keep it in the dark.”

Myax sighed, clearly reluctant to admit this as a possibility but forced to entertain it against their will.

“I’ve known him a long time, back when he was a bumbling, lecherous old cripple. He was never bright, always very self-involved, but basically harmless, I _liked_ him, sometimes despite my better judgement. This? It feels too harsh, to deliberate. But…” they took another breath, determined now to voice fears which had been long suppressed, “whatever he paid for the RejuviTech, and I’m guessing it was a lot, it’s not on the books and hasn’t gone through me. Which makes me think it might not be money. I don’t know if it was the technology or just being young again, but he’s changed since he went through Rejuvenation. I’m not sure I know him anymore.”

The Doctor closed her eyes and willed herself into not exploding at Myax for putting her new friends in danger. It wouldn’t help. Taking a breath, she grabbed the Rylian’s hand and pulled herself out of the chair.

“We can work that out later. Right now, I need to round up a couple of stray humans before they get damaged. Come on, run!”

Running down corridors towards potential danger was in many ways the bread and butter of the Doctor’s existence and despite her worries it had a comforting familiarity to it. As they rounded the twists and turns of the catacombs, leaping down stairs several steps at a time and skidding round corners, the Doctor noticed that the security orbs were no-longer turning to watch as they ran. She was uncertain if this was a positive development or not, but the change made her pick up the pace. They were both panting heavily by the time they reached the door to the Rejuvenation Centre where they had last seen Phryne.

“Alice? Alice?” the Doctor burst into the room, already scanning with her screwdriver, looking around for any evidence of her friend, or the mysterious Dr Monya.

The room was completely empty, all the equipment seemed to be off or idling, although a strong smell lingered in the air, the chemical tang of burnt magnesium.

The equipment whirred into life as the Doctor pointed her screwdriver at it and a host of symbols began to flash across the screen. Unlike Phryne, the Doctor recognised them immediately, and she knew exactly what they meant.

“Gallifreyan.” The Doctor began to swear profusely in the same language as she began to decode the encryption and skim through the files within.

“The Corsair was sent here to track down a rogue Time Lord, and I have a horrible feeling I know which one.”

Myax looked at her, scared and curious.

“It looks here like they have managed to syphon off the regeneration energy from living Time Lords and use it on other species. It’s diabolical, practically impossible and utter genius. There’s only one person I know who could even attempt it.”

“Who, Doctor?”

The Doctor’s face had set into menacing lines which did not suit the naturally soft curves of her features.

“When I first knew her, and called her a friend, she went by the name Ushas. These days, she calls herself the Rani, and I no longer call her a friend.”

Myax looked blank; the Corsair had not revealed the name of the person he was supposed to be tracking down, but by the expression on the Doctor’s face, this was not a positive development. Still looking like she might feed the whole planet to the wyrms before the day was out, the Doctor pointed her screwdriver at the largest of the consoles, causing the machine to erupt in a series of small explosions which travelled along the wall to the Rejuvenation Chamber itself. The force of the final blast knocked the chamber door off its hinges, leaving nothing but the acrid stench of molten metal and burning plastic.

“Come on.” She turned purposefully to the door. “I need to find my friends.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the slackers for 'kale eyes' - there was a discussion where 'eyes unfurling like kale' - had been used in a smutty context in another fandom. I couldn't resist working it into this one because it felt so perfect.
> 
> Ushas/the Rani is an old Dr Who villain from the original series who I always rather enjoyed. Unlike the Master - the Doctor's long time Time Lord nemesis - the Rani does not care much about the Doctor either way, unless her plans are about to be thwarted. Her motivation is science, it's all she really cares about, including the lives of her test subjects.


	8. Chapter Seven: Deep as the Ocean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mostly banter and cave sex. Happy space phracking.

Phryne was getting increasingly frustrated. Having worked out that the mysterious Dr Monya was using a language similar to that carved into parts of the TARDIS – and could therefore from the same planet as the Doctor - she had wanted to find the Time Lady as soon as possible and let her know. Also, the Doctor had not been able to find a solution to the damage done to Phryne’s timeline; having found one herself she was feeling more in control than she had since beginning this strange adventure and was quite looking forward to demonstrating how clever she had been.

The problem was that, search as she might through the seemingly endless winding corridors of the hotel, she could not find the Doctor. Well, if the woman wanted her assistance she should have the good grace to be easy to locate when potentially interesting information had been uncovered. Finally, seeing a sign which appeared to point the way to the ocean, Phryne decided to cut her losses and go and find Jack. If the Doctor had finished trying to get information out of Myax that was where they had agreed to meet, and besides, Phryne had her own personal reasons for wanting to track down the Inspector. She smiled slyly to herself at the thought.

The signposts eventually led to what was clearly a lift, of the kind she had seen in some of the more elegant department stores, but built on a much grander scale. There was no operator, but a large button clearly indicated that it would take the thing down to the ocean level, so she pressed it and waited. When the doors stood open she stepped out into what may have been the most extraordinary scene she had ever encountered.

The dark water expanded off to the edge of vision, swirling gently around the caves of the coast along either side of the beach. The excited hubbub of hundreds of people relaxing on the sand and in the soft swell of the warm sea washed over her, along with the faint smell of limes that she recalled from the bath she had shared with Jack that morning. The humid air brought a light sheen of sweat out on her skin and the thought of jumping into that warm fragrant water was very inviting. It was at this point, having descended a short flight of steps to the beach that she noticed with delight the lack of bathing suits. Sadly, the thick fur which covered the Rylians’ bodies rendered the addition of fabric little more than an affectation in any case, and she was disappointed to find there was little more to see even when the towelwear was removed. Some of the other occupants had rather a lot on display, and in the case of the person who kept regurgitating his eyeballs onto the surface of the water, a great deal too much.

It was at that point that she saw Detective Inspector Jack Robinson, naked as the day he was born - although he was submerged in the ocean up to his midriff – happily relaxing in the balmy water. He and Jiat were conversing with two very attractive Rylian women, one of whom took the opportunity to splash the Inspector playfully, laughing in response to something he had said. As sensing her presence, Jack looked over the shore where Phryne was standing, her mouth hanging open, poised somewhere between flat incredulity at his behaviour and outrage that she hadn’t been here to encourage it.

“Miss Fisher!” He threw her a jaunty wave and a sly smile which was going to cost him dearly. “Care to join us?”

Phryne did not trouble to consider her options. There was no universe in which Jack Robinson was less intimidated by the prospect of public nudity than she was, and she felt the need to make that fact perfectly clear at once. Whipping off her towelwear with a flourish and tossing it casually onto a nearby rock, she stalked into the water with her head high, meeting his eyes with a defiant ‘you’ll have to do better than that’ look. She was immensely satisfied to see his face freeze in place, his eyes wide, the smug smile replaced by a look that suggested he was now very glad that he at least had seawater to cover his modesty.

“I can see you’ve been enjoying your holiday, Jack.” She intoned gravely; her lips quirked in a victorious smile, and she flicked her gaze pointedly down his body for good measure, revelling in the clench of his jaw as she met his eyes again, her face now the picture of innocence.

“And Mr Jiat,” she swung around, turning the full force of her smile on the unsuspecting Rylian, “won’t you introduce me to your friends?”

Internally Jack wondered exactly what he had been expecting to achieve with that manoeuvre, and decided to focus very hard on the kale eyed alien which was still peacefully consuming and regurgitating its own body parts as if this was perfectly ordinary behaviour. The sight quickly began to have the desired effect but he didn’t think he’d ever be able to face a leafy vegetable again.

“Just Jiat, Phryne please,” like Jack, Jiat had cottoned on to the difference between Rylian and human naming conventions fairly quickly, unlike Jack, he was not attempting to hide his approval at the sight of Phryne’s naked torso, her lower half now swallowed up by the warm waters of the Rylian sea.

“This is Nira and Elanis, good friends of mine.” The two women smiled and greeted her cheerfully, pressing kisses to her forehead much as Jiat had done that morning. She wondered, not entirely idly, if Jack had been as reluctant to receive them from these two as he had from Jiat.

“Why, we have quite a party together now you’ve arrived. The Doctor isn’t with you?” Jiat continued, looking around as if expecting the Doctor to materialise out of thin air. Actually, thought Phryne, she wouldn’t entirely put it past her.

“No, and I’ve been looking for her. You haven’t seen her at all?” She looked back to Jack to confirm the negative and he, having regained his dignity, shook his head, his eyes now curious.

“Shame, I even tried to ask at reception but there was no-one there,” she added, hoping that this would be enough to get Jiat moving; she wanted to talk to Jack. If Dr Monya really was a Time Lady, her disappearance at the same time as the Doctor’s could be more than a coincidence.

Jiat looked much more worried by this development than she expected, glancing up towards the bank of lift doors along the back wall of the sandy beach as if worried about what might come through them. His voice when he spoke however, sounded merely irritated – hardly a surprise given that his staff appeared to be unable to mind his business, service being everything in this kind of establishment.

“Much as I hate to leave a party just as the guest of honour arrives,” he flashed Phryne a devilish smile that displayed his sparkling canines, “I should probably check to see where she’s got to. If I come across the Doctor on my travels I will send her your way, you stay here and enjoy yourselves.” He nodded over to the caves which met the ocean at the far end of the beach. “The caverns over that way are practically deserted at this time of day, and the Alia orchid is in bloom – one of the most beautiful sights on Rylia,” he dropped his voice to a lascivious whisper which made Jack grit his teeth, “at least until recently.”

The two Rylian women apparently didn’t find enough to interest them in a pair of off-worlders once Jiat had made his way back towards the lifts, or possibly they read enough into the slightly possessive hand Phryne had laid on Jack’s naked chest to recognise a lost cause when they saw one. The pair of them took their leave, telling Jack and Phryne to enjoy their afternoon and wandered off in search of amusement elsewhere.

Phryne was keen to find a less public area, intending to update Jack on everything she had found out during her trip to the Rejuvenation Centre, and Jack, who was still hoping to remain on holiday, was keen to find out how an Alia orchid compared to those in his garden back on Earth.

They wandered to the caves through the edge of the surf, picking up and redonning their towelwear from the beach and letting the water lap around their ankles. After the fast pace of the past few days it was pleasant to be able to stroll at leisure, taking stock and enjoying the view. Phryne was intrigued and delighted by how relaxed Jack appeared in this setting. He ambled along, all lithe muscle and casual grace, not in the least self-conscious. In fact he seemed more alive and visibly excited than she had ever seen him; peering into every cavern, pointing out the many tailed purple sea creatures spinning like Catherine wheels in the shallow pools. When he spotted some translucent silver flowers, stained blue where the artificial lights faded to cerulean twilight, he climbed up on a rock to pick one for her, tucking it behind her ear. In the strange light of the deep tunnels her pale skin looked ethereal, otherworldly, as if she was some siren from the ancient world sent to tempt him with unearthly song and drag him down beneath the waves. Phryne smiled up at him, the light touch of his fingers in her damp hair sending golden shivers down her spine; he was so whole and steady and so beautiful.

Unable to find the right words, she opted for reaching up to kiss him, her tongue breaching his lips, her hands taking full advantage of his naked torso. Jack’s attempts to control his reaction by focusing hard on his memory of the regurgitating sprouty eyeballs was utterly ineffective; if this was what drowning felt like it was more than worth the risk.

Towelwear was a highly functional garment, but it had not been designed to obscure arousal in human males, a fact which was now causing Jack a certain amount of discomfort and Phryne a considerable amount of amusement. She pulled away from him, removing her own towel and placing it on a rock by the entrance to the nearest cave. No-one else on the beach appeared to even notice her nakedness, but it was filling Jack’s world pretty effectively and he couldn’t resist a self-depreciating smirk. He should have known that this was the inevitable outcome from the moment he put the damned towel on.     

The cave itself was a long tunnel filled with still water, winding its way back from the main bay towards the more secluded beaches, separated from the central cavern by the deep pools dotted along the shore. Phryne turned to the water at the entrance, it was mirror smooth and giving off a faint, lime scented steam; in the semi-darkness of the deep tunnels there was no way to gauge it’s depth. She shot Jack a roguish wink over her shoulder – a clear invitation to follow her – and plunged in, sending up a splash of indigo water and emerging, giggling with delight, a few feet further into the cave.

Jack was not especially keen on taking off his towel right now, given the predicament he had been left in, but the water looked like a more effective means to maintain his dignity at this point and the cave ahead looked deserted. With the heavy sigh of a man now trying to hide how much he was enjoying this, he removed his own towel and jumped in after her.

The water was deep and as warm as that on the main beach, – his feet were nowhere near any kind of bottom. Still, both of the detectives were accomplished swimmers and Jiat had been right about one thing – the seas of Rylia were far more hospitable than the Pacific Ocean, assuming they didn’t encounter any monsters in the ancient depths.

They swam on together, racing to the far end of the cavern, where a second, much smaller beach led up to a blank wall. They could faintly make out patterns of light and shadow through the crystal surface, hinting at further tunnels beyond. Jack emerged first, running naked onto the shore, sea water dripping off him in little rivulets. The ground beneath his feed was more soil than sand, covered in soft foliage and little flowers, it was perfect.

Jack shook the damp hair out of his eyes and turned back to Phryne laughing.

“I bested you, Miss Fisher.”

She emerged, panting slightly, setting her feet down a little further from the shore than he had. The sight of her body being slowly revealed as she emerged from the dark water had Jack glancing surreptitiously past her, back towards the cavern entrance. They were most definitely alone, something Phryne had already noticed.

“I never knew you were such a champion swimmer, Jack.”

“Well, I’ve always enjoyed a day at the seaside.” His words were scrabbling to keep them on dry ground, but the two of them were naked and perfectly alone in the soft, intimate blue of the deep; Jack realised with a sudden clarity that he was about to misbehave. They were guests on this planet and only a short swim from the coast; somewhere, a long way down, Inspector Robinson was shouting at Jack to back down right now, but Inspector Robinson had no jurisdiction on Rylia. 

The pale phosphorescence of Alia orchids glinting off of the inky water was turning the wafts of gentle steam to silver; it glinted off the little beads of moisture that clung to Phryne’s eyelashes and the smattering of hair across Jack’s chest. She moved forward, hips swaying, dark eyes on his; she saw the moment when the latent resistance he still harboured gave way. It came in the rise at the corner of his mouth and the flick of his tongue across his lower lip. His eyes were dark, the pupils blown wide in the low light, and when he reached out, he pulled her close and she could feel all the filthy promises and wicked intentions those eyes had ever held and in the press of his body against hers. She forgot about the case, the Doctor, the mysteries still left unsolved, all that mattered was the feel of Jack’s lips and the strong caress of his hands at her waist; certain, determined, and utterly hers.

In the humidity of the cavern their kisses tasted of salt-sweat and desire, mingled with the faint citrus tang of Rylian seawater. They lay down on the shore, the sandy soil was feathered all over with tiny silver ferns and pale blue flowers almost invisible in the twilight; Phryne felt them soft against the wet skin of her back as she pulled Jack on top of her. The warm dark water silently lapped at their ankles where the slope of the sea met the land, the sensation at once exotic and comforting. She nipped at his lips, her hands teasing along his ribs to palm the firm flesh of his buttocks, not wanting to waste a second; at any moment her dour inspector might wake from whatever delicious dream had her pinned beneath him, naked on the beach of an alien world, surrounded by the gentle murmurs of a subterranean ocean.

Jack was a long way from waking; he could see the phosphorescent light of the flowers reflected in Phryne’s eyes and feel the pulsing of her hips against his stiffening cock. It was exquisite, unreal, and yet he had never felt more utterly present in his own body, every nerve on fire and craving her. He ran his hands up and over Phryne’s hips, her thighs, her breasts, drinking in the feel of her skin still dripping with fragrant water. In the half-light of the deep she almost seemed to glow; it was unearthly, as if he held some naiad or nymph in his arms. His Queen Titania in her bed of flowers, and all he wanted was to worship every inch of her. His lips traced a trickle of water as it fell down her neck, along her clavicle; she moaned, her fingers tangling in his wet hair as he moved down to take her nipple in his mouth, scraping the tender flesh with his teeth in a way that shot sparks straight to her core.

From here Phryne could see the tiny lights, floral and artificial, gleaming through the walls and ceiling and reflecting off the dark surface of the water. It was as if she was suspended in a sea of stars, her body floating weightless, every part of her sparkling and swelling, needing more. She pulled Jack’s lips back to hers, rolling them towards the ocean as she plundered his mouth with her tongue, their bodies now half submerged in the warm, shallow water. The wet heat of the air and sea mingled with the warmth of skin against skin as if they were already merged, one being united by sensation, no longer any part of the mundane, waking world of shame and consequences. Hands wandered lower, tender strokes giving way to rougher, more desperate touches, lips and teeth finding sensitive spots, breath and sweat meeting and mingling, muffled moans echoing off the crystal walls.

It was a lucky thing that Phryne had met Dr Monya, because family planning was not on either of their minds in this moment. She sank onto him with a cry that was probably audible from the beach and he pulled her down so he could cover her mouth with his, swallowing her moans as she feasted on his muffled curses, the water splashing against their legs as they moved together, frantic for each other as they sped towards release. Phryne rolled them again, back towards the land, wanting the contrast of the soft foliage of the beach against her back with the relentless pressure of Jack’s cock pounding into her; the heavy sound of his breath in her ear competing with the thunder of blood racing through her veins as he licked the sweat from her neck. She came hard, dark waves of pleasure washing over her until she was utterly submerged, her legs locked around Jack’s waist, pinning him to her, tight as a lifeline. Unable to hold on or pull away he let go, burying his shout in the flesh of her shoulder; his release overflowing, dripping down onto the silver sand to be washed away by the gently lapping ocean.

Jack had not experienced a coherent thought in several long, blissful moments; he had apparently rolled onto his back and was looking up at the lights which were not stars, not entirely certain how he had ended up there. He was trying hard to remember how motor co-ordination worked but it was not going very well. An unpleasant sensation was creeping over him; like waking from a beautiful dream to the realisation that he was already several hours late for something very important. He flopped without much dignity or gravitas onto one side to see Phryne watching him with a mixture of utter satisfaction and frank astonishment, still trying to catch her breath.

“You know, Jack. I think you should come on holiday more often, it clearly agrees with you.”

Brushing aside both the innuendo and the temptation to comment on the potential body count, his face was serious.

“Phryne, I’m so sorry, family planning, I should have…”

She shook her head reassuringly.

“Nothing to worry about. I met a very interesting doctor whilst investigating this rejuvenation therapy our Doctor is so interested in. It seems the Rylians are considerably more advanced when it comes to methods of contraception and I was able to take advantage. Assuming it was a Rylian method – actually, I suspect the woman in question may have been from the Doctor’s planet.”

“Seems you had a busy afternoon.”

Jack relaxed; it was not a matter he was used to considering, or discussing. He was not embarrassed by it, just uncertain in this unknown terrain. Phryne, however, seemed to be revived sufficiently to let him know exactly how clever she had been, which was much more comfortable and familiar territory, even if it usually led to trouble.

“As did you, Inspector.” She leant in again to kiss him, but he refused to be unduly distracted, partly from genuine curiosity about her discovery and partly because he was still uncertain he could move his legs, let alone attempt anything more strenuous.

Warming to her subject Miss Fisher continued, “Dr Monya gave me a demonstration of this Regeneration Technology. Apparently, I no longer need to worry about the damage to my timeline the Doctor was so bothered by. I can’t say for sure that it’s the miracle panacea Jiat claims, but I had the odd scrape or two from the plane crash and they all appear to be gone.”

Jack nodded, smoothing the palm of his hand down her arm, noting the lack of bruises; he met her eyes with a bashful, downturned smile as his fingers found the fresh marks he had left on her neck. He could hardly believe he had done that; it should have been a shameful thing to mark that perfect skin, but there were half-moon scrapes at his sides where her nails had bitten into his flesh as she climaxed. He could not bring himself to regret either action, and Phryne was smiling at him, a secret, intimate little smile that let him know she did not regret those little marks either.

“What makes you think this Dr Monya was a - what was it? – a Time Lady?”

“Well, she clearly knew a great deal about time travel for one thing, and there were symbols in her laboratory that I recognised from the TARDIS. I was going to tell the Doctor about it, but by the time I got out Dr Monya had disappeared and I couldn’t find our Doctor anywhere.”

He frowned, it could still be nothing, but the number of missing women at this point seemed beyond coincidence, “So it’s our Doctor now? We better hope she’s not in trouble - much as I appreciate your piloting skills, I’m not sure even you could get us back to Melbourne from Rylia.”

“The Doctor can look after herself Jack, don’t worry about that. Although we should probably resume the search,” to Jack’s surprise and great satisfaction, Phryne actually looked a little embarrassed, something he had never witnessed before, “you distracted me,” she admitted, making his ego swell and his heart skip a beat.

“I’m sure you’re right Phryne – about the Doctor I mean - and there’s still no evidence we are even looking at a crime here.”

“Jiat didn’t look happy at the idea that his receptionist appeared to have wandered off. A few too many disappearances for one morning if you ask me, Inspector.”

Jack still didn’t look entirely convinced but he relented and stood up, holding out a hand to Phryne who took it and sprang to her feet. As she did so, she caught sight of something odd through the wall on the far side of the cavern.

“Jack, look.”

All of the lights they had seen so far had been some variation of blue or white, depending on the opacity and colour of the walls around them. Somewhere on the other side of that wall a brilliant, light was blazing purple through the blue of the wall. It was brighter than the pale gleam of the Alia orchids that surrounded them, and much brighter than the weak rays sunlight from far above their head. Jack felt himself shiver, despite the heat; he could just make out a dark mass on the ground, the shape indistinct through the rough cavern walls. It occurred to him suddenly that he was on holiday with Miss Fisher, a circumstance with usually came with a body count. He had a very bad feeling about this.


	9. Chapter Eight: Back on Duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite the unnerving lack of towels, Phryne and Jack head off to investigate the mysterious light in the neighbouring cave and find somewhat more than they bargained for.

Finding the entrance to the adjacent cave proved more difficult than expected. The wall on that side of the cavern was not smooth like that of the beach where they had made love. It was a snarled and twisted mass of crystal, like an experiment in glass blowing gone horribly wrong. All of the obvious entrances were either too high or too small to get through. Phryne of course strode off into the gloom, her determination somehow amplified by her nakedness, and began to scramble off the slippery rocks and peer into dark corners looking for any possible entrance. Jack followed a little less gracefully and wishing he had his towel with him.

“Why don’t you check under the surface, Jack? There might be a tunnel we can get through.”

“Whatever’s on the other side of that wall I doubt it’s worth drowning over.” He grumbled, but acquiesced, both detectives rather relieved when he broke the surface again having come up short.

He joined Phryne who atop a smooth, round boulder, it’s flat top covered with a fringe of the fluffy ferns that grew along the shore. She pulled him closer by the arm and pointed into a fissure in the rock above them.

“There, Jack, I think that crack goes all the way through. I might need a boost to get up there.”

Jack glanced up, the crack was narrow and in the dim light it was hard to tell but it did look like their best option. He cupped his hands to give her a food hold, not troubling to hide his appreciation of the bunching muscles of her bare arse as she strained to pull herself up. With his extra height he just managed to scramble up after her, Phryne offering her arm to help him onto the ledge. Slowly they squeezed through the narrow gap in single file, emerging onto a ledge high up on the wall of the neighbouring cave. 

The new cavern had none of the tranquillity of the one they had left, it was a heaving mass of churning water, gurgling up and down in a deep basin. The kind that might be called something like ‘the devil’s cauldron’ back on Earth. Rylia had no devils, but their gods only knew what kind of creatures might be living in a place like that. The detectives had emerged on a kind of cliff edge overlooking the rough water, the surface was slippery in places but there were enough of the faintly glowing Alia orchids to guide their way and give them a reasonable foot hold. The path - such as it was – sloped down and wound around the central basin, The uneven ground and the rough cliff walls were covered in orchids, little jewel bright glimmers of phosphorescence that sparked off the turbulent waves, making little rainbows and halos in the sea mist.

It would have been beautiful, if not for the corpse.

The light which had caught their attention even through the rough wall of the cavern was a bloody red, it drew the eye. Huddled in a tiny, twisted heap on a ledge maybe 10ft below the gap where they had entered, was what looked like a Rylian, smaller than those they had met, maybe four feet or so when standing. The normally sleek fur which covered them from head to toe was dull grey and spattered with blood. All around the body, as if they were somehow aware that all was not well here, the orchids had forsaken their ghostly shimmer and were glowing a dangerous shade of scarlet; it looked like a warning. There was probably a scientific explanation, but the immediate effect was eerie, as if some dark alchemy were afoot. It made Phryne shiver, although she would have bitten off her own toe before admitting it.

“Jack, I think that’s a child.”

Her anguish was matched only by her speed; Phryne slipped down the steep bank without a second look, landing gracefully on bare feet and moving with purpose towards the body.

From the moment he had seen the corpse Inspector Robinson had been back on duty; he took in the scene carefully, noting the exits (very few) and the condition of the corpse.

“He could have been washed up with the tide,” he speculated. “Myax said the ocean moves around in the lower levels. Perhaps he fell in.”

“Or was pushed.” Phryne suggested darkly.

Jack wasn’t about to jump to any conclusions, but he couldn’t deny that Miss Fisher had an instinct for this sort of thing – a nose for trouble you might say. He scrambled down onto the lower ledge to get a closer look, careful not to disturb the body.

“Pity neither of us thought to bring gloves,” he remarked sardonically, simultaneously taking note of the twisted limbs and cracked skull; unless Rylian technology could revive the dead – or their physiology was even more divergent from human than it appeared – there was no hope for the child.

“In this outfit?” It was a feeble joke, and Jack was not fooled by Phryne’s bravado, but as ever he understood it. She was back on the case, insulating herself from the natural anguish the death of a child and leaping into action. Even as she spoke, she was checking the surrounding area for any sign of a struggle, her movements uncharacteristically cautious in the narrow space; the plants all around seemed untrodden, albeit a little stunted and slightly muddy - possibly this level took on water at times.

Jack himself was not so jaded that he could ever call the death of a child a relief, but depressing as it was, he was at least back on familiar ground here. He checked the ledge above the body, finding it free of blood and disturbance; the matted fur around the little face was soaked through, not merely damp from the air. He reached down and gently closed the sightless eyes.

Phryne glanced up, noting the same clues, agreeing on the conclusion with a look: the child had definitely washed up onto the ledge, not fallen down.

She had knelt down to better examine the body. “Jack, look at this.”

Her partner knelt down beside her, resting a hand on her bare shoulder.

“Here, by the neck.”

What they had taken for matted fur appeared to be a rough grey cloth, a little like felt; it was covering the little body in a kind of tunic, but even with the added brightness of the sinister red orchids this had not been immediately obvious. Under the cloth, tangled in the fur, was a slender metal chain, Phryne pulled it out to find a little plain white stone, possibly some kind of fossil, circular with a hole in the middle and polished to catch the various shades of light. She disentangled it and held it up.

“A good luck charm perhaps?”

“Possibly. Sadly not a very effective one.” Jack gave it a cursory examination then looked back down at the corpse, “I didn’t notice any of the Rylians on the beach wearing clothes.”

“The fabric looks worn and nothing like the kind of quality of the stuff I’ve seen at the hotel. I suspect this child was not a guest at this establishment.”

“Which begs the question, how did their body turn up on a private beach?”

The two of them looked at each other and Jack realised that, despite the horror and the senseless waste of life it inevitably entailed, it was this he had missed most of all during Phryne’s long absence. The two of them together, working for justice, solving a mystery? It was the way the world should be - even on Rylia, stark naked in the presence of a corpse. Serious as the situation was, there was an undeniable, perverse humour in their ridiculous position.

“It’s a little like one of those dreams where you turn up to work and suddenly you realise you don’t have any clothes on.” He observed with a wry tilt to his lips.

“Oh, I’ve had my fair share of those,” Phryne caught his eye and winked, “but, I’m not usually the one who’s naked.”

Jack rolled his eyes and glanced back up the way they had come, uncertain if they should split up or both go for help.

“Wasn’t your Doctor was involved with some sort of outer-space police force?”

“She’s not _my_ Doctor, Jack - I’ve barely known her longer than you have - but yes she was.” In fact, Phryne had not been especially impressed by the Shadow Proclamation’s definition of justice, but then she usually felt that way about most of the Victoria Police force as well – with a few noble and notable exceptions.

“From the way Jiat and his friends reacted when I told them what I did, I don’t think Rylia has a civilian police force. The wealthy employ private security, like the bloke who let us in to the hotel.”

“And you are sceptical about their investigative ability?”

“If you’re right and this kid is from the wrong side of the tracks, it might be better for business just to cover the whole thing up. I can’t see they would have much incentive to take the matter seriously.” His dislike for Jiat had only grown over the course of the afternoon – not helped by the man’s very condescending attitude towards his profession - and at this point Jack would not put anything past him.

Phryne had too much experience of the police’s lacklustre efforts to find her sister to question that judgement. Too often it was one rule for the rich, another for everybody else, although it would be nice if that had changed with the change in planet. She would just have to do what she always did, take the matter into her own hands. Plus, she had a Time Lady and her partner by her side. That rule would not hold this time.

Agreeing that the best course of action was to go back and try to locate the Doctor, Jack gave Phryne a boost up onto the ledge, opting to stay by the body until help arrived. She had almost made it to the top of the little cliff when the rumbling began. The tremors and the deep creaking and groaning sounds they had heard during breakfast were louder and stronger down here. Phryne slid back down the cliff with a curse and an undignified bruise to her bare backside. Jack grabbed onto her with one hand, the other clinging to the cliff edge for dear life, his long fingers gripping onto the tangles of vegetation to keep them from being swept into the churning waters below.

The pool itself was a confusion of white water, writhing and bubbling like a boiling pot. The ocean was rising higher and higher, tipping up above the ledge and slapping at the wall where they were crouched, helpless against the elements. The little body began to slip towards the swirling current and Phryne lunged, Jack’s hand strong around one arm, and grabbed a the lifeless little hand in one of her own. The water was up to their knees now, and Jack wasn’t sure how long he would be able to keep himself anchored to the cliff; the tangle of roots and leaves was getting increasingly slippery, and strands had begun to break away under the strain of keeping them above the tide.

Out of the deep darkness of the pit it came, huge and white, it’s snakeskin scales shimmering and shifting with the light and the distortion of dripping water. The gaping maw was lined with rows of sharp teeth, bright against flesh the dull grey of decay. It burst up into the cavern with a deafening roar that reverberated off the walls, casting a spattering squall of warm spray into their faces. There was barely a second to react and Jack acted on instinct, pulling Phryne tight to him, knowing that if he was going to die, he wanted to do it with her in his arms. Phryne was not above smacking a vicious monster with her fists if that’s all she had handy, but instead she threw her body between the approaching horror and her partner, shielding him ineffectually with slim limbs – love had never made anyone rational – and still gripping tight to the body of the little Rylian with one hand.

The beast lunged and they clung to each other, both certain this was the end…but it had not come for them.

The terrifying monstrosity plucked the little body from Phryne’s hand as gently and delicately as a well behaved cat taking a treat from her mistress and swallowed it whole. Then, with a foamy swirl of water that momentarily submerged the humans, pressing them for a choked second against the cavern wall, it dived. The deep rumble of its passage got further and further away, leaving the two detectives alive, still clinging to the sodden foliage covering the side of the little cliff, the orchids around their feet slowly fading from red to pale blue as the waters retreated.

“That settles it,” said Phryne, as soon as she had caught her breath, “we have to find the Doctor.”

***

The Doctor was, in fact, surprisingly easy to find. As soon as they reached the main beach and picked up their discarded towelwear, the fabric miraculously dry despite the humidity, they became aware of a commotion further along the shore. The Doctor and Myax were arguing with Jiat, who looked deeply flustered and uncomfortable by their line of questioning.

“If anything has happened to them I swear to any spare gods you have knocking around that you will regret it!”

The Doctor was more agitated than Phryne had yet seen her; she had seen the Time Lady in battle, but that was a hard, controlled rage, full of power and strength. Even facing an adversary nearly twice her height she had never looked this worried.

“Doctor!” Phryne shouted drawing the attention of the group.

“Phryne! Jack! What have I told you about wandering off? Something might have eaten you!”

She had not in fact told them any such thing and Phryne was about to protest as much, but Jack cut her off – they had more important things to worry about.

“Something nearly did, we were attacked in one of the smaller caves,” Jack explained. His voice held a note of sardonic amusement at his earlier scepticism. “If asked to describe the attacker I would have to call it a – what was it you said? – a giant prehistoric space-wyrm?”

Myax gasped in astonishment, but Jiat simply continued to squirm in discomfort; Phryne might not have a lot of experience judging Rylian expressions, but Hugh Collins was a better liar than Jiat. Had she been wearing one, she would have bet her hat that the presence of prehistoric monsters in the deep had not come as a surprise to him.

“That’s not all,” Phryne pressed on, “we found a body in one of the caves. It looked like a child.”

“A child?” Myax looked horrified. “No child has been reported missing from the hotel, I would know about it.”

“We don’t think they were a guest,” Jack explained, “they didn’t look like they would be able to afford it.”

“They were wearing this.” Phryne held out the little necklace they had found on the corpse. “I don’t suppose it means anything to either of you?”

She looked at the two Rylians for any sign of recognition, Myax was staring at the thing as if they were about to vomit, but the look of relief on Jiat’s face was an ugly thing to behold. Myax saw it too, and stared at the man as if they had never seen him before. Perhaps they also saw something in his expression that the others missed because they closed in on their boss with bared teeth, their voice a sharp, dangerous hiss.

“What did you do, Jiat? Tell me what you know about this right now, or so help me I will flood your hotel to surface level.”

The Doctor reached out and patted her friend’s arm, - it had been a few centuries since she had played the good cop, but she still remembered the role.

“I don’t think you will need to go that far. Jiat’s not the first person to be manipulated by the Rani and he won’t be the last, and I’m sure he doesn’t want a death on his conscience. He’ll tell us what we need to know, won’t you dear?”

Behind the Doctor’s back the two detectives exchanged a glance, clearly they had missed a few developments in the case whilst they had been otherwise occupied. They kept watch on the squirming Rylian with hard, unsympathetic eyes. If he was in any way responsible for that child’s death he was going to pay for it; if justice was a stranger on Rylia, they would just have to make the introduction. Stronger wills than Jiat’s had cowered before the collective stare of Melbourne’s finest detectives, and that was without the addition of an ancient and unpredictable alien, worshiped as a god on countless worlds - not to mention Myax, the brains of his every business dealing and right hand Rylian. He folded like a weak hand, offering no resistance.

“She, she didn’t want money.” His eyes were lowered, and it was Myax’s accusing glare that he couldn’t bear to meet. “She said she needed a place to conduct research, quietly, without drawing attention.”

“Whose attention?” asked the Doctor, cold as the void between worlds.

“I didn’t ask. You don’t ask those kinds of questions in business.” The disgust radiating off of his audience could have bleached the silver sand of the beach below their feet.

“And you found her a location? Where?” the Doctor was calm now, although Phryne recognised this as the eye of the storm. The last time she had seen it the Doctor had come close to taking a man’s leg off with a sword.

“The lower levels. I gave her The Pit.”

Rylian’s did not go pale with shock, or if they did it was impossible to tell under all the fur, but Myax’s eyes widened and they drew in a breath, baring their teeth in a snarl.

“And what did you do with the people who lived there, Jiat! Where did they go?”

“How should I know? They were living on my property, I gave them notice, they left. I can’t be expected to keep tabs on every _tarka_ on the planet.”

Jack let Myax get a single, solid punch in before pulling them back – he was only human and Jiat clearly deserved it.

“ _Tarka!”_ Myax spat, “have you forgotten where I came from?”

Myax could probably have broken out of Jack’s grip if they really wanted too, but the act of restraint seemed to be enough for them to tamp down their anger, at least enough to resist beating the hapless Jiat – now sprawled on the sand clutching his jaw – to within an inch of his life. Turning their head away with a look of utter contempt they faced the Doctor.

“I know where this lab is. He owns a slum-complex on the lower levels. He must have evicted the occupants to let your Time Lady set up her lab. If the Corsair is still alive, she might be keeping him there.”

Phryne began to feel she had made a terrible mistake in trusting Dr Monya enough to get into that Rejuvenation Chamber; by the look on the Doctor’s face the woman appeared to worry the Doctor more than a whole ship full of bloodthirsty Sycorax had. Phryne flexed her hand and concentrated. The family planning device reappeared on her palm, just as it had in the lab. She breathed an inward sigh of relief, deciding there was no need to mention it yet, it was a delicate subject after all and they had more pressing matters to attend to.

“How do we get there?” Phryne asked, wanting to make it clear that it would take more than an improbable space monster to scare her and Jack off the case.

“And what does any of this have to do with the supposedly legendary sea creature that attacked us and ate the body of a young child which washed up in one of those caves?” asked Jack, who was feeling the need to voice an argument for at least a little methodical investigation before they all jumped into the belly of a potentially literal beast without any real plan.

“We can drive, but it’s a fair way across the city.”

“Let’s get going then.” The Doctor gave Jack a roguish wink which had him caught between exasperated and regretting his life choices; it was a feeling he had grown all too familiar with during his partnership with Miss Fisher. “As for the rest of it, we will find out when we get there, but if it makes you feel any better I have my suspicions on the subject of legendary monsters. I have a feeling there may be more to that tale than meets the eye.”

This did not make Jack feel better at all, but he rolled his eyes in an expression of long suffering patience that for some reason brought the tender flutter of butterflies to Phryne’s stomach, and agreed to follow the party. With any luck they would all survive.

The Doctor made to lead the way towards the lift shafts but stopped herself and turned to Jiat; he was still slumped on the floor, eyes flicking between each of his adversaries and looking both scared and as if he was struggling to keep up with what was going on. Having drawn her attention, the man made the mistake of trying to curry favour.

“I didn’t know she was wanted by the Time Lords, Doctor. Of course if there is a legal issue I will be more than willing to co-operate, and I can talk to my legal department about paying any fines we may have accrued if that’s what it takes to smooth this all out.”

Myax shut their eyes, wincing internally at the idea they had ever called this pathetic specimen a friend.

“Oh, you will pay, Jiat.” The Doctor’s voice was heavy with deadly promise, “What you will pay depends on what I find when I get to your slum.”

Jiat swallowed and appeared about to answer, possibly to double down on the grovelling, but he was interrupted by what was now an all too familiar sound. The ominous groaning rumble that had heralded the arrival of the wyrm from the deep. The previously calm waters of the Rylian sea began to rise and fall. There were screams from the beachgoers, all far enough away to have missed the confrontation by the shore. Somewhere, out in the twilit depths of the huge cavern, an ancient horror rose slowly from the deep.

It was coming for them.


	10. Chapter Nine: Kidnap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Attack of the giant, prehistoric space wyrm! Followed by a boat trip towards the less reputable parts of Rylia.

The altercation with Jiat had taken place far enough from other beachgoers that it had drawn surprisingly little attention. The changes in the weather conditions were another matter.

The ocean which had previously been barely rippling against the shore was heaving, heavy waves and surf grinding into the soft grey sand. Hordes of holiday makers began to crowd up the beach, anxious and shouting for loved ones. There were still people bobbing about in the water, some struggling against the choppy waves, others making a break for the shore. One or two, less quick on the uptake, seemed to be enjoying themselves, assuming this to be some new form of entertainment.

Jack was looking out towards the crowd. “There’s still people in the water, we have to get everyone off this beach.”

He turned to the others, “Who here’s a decent swimmer, can we get them out and back to the lifts in time?”

The Doctor took charge of the general public in the way only she could, her voice echoing over the sounds of the shouting crowd, filled with an unassailable authority not even Victoria’s finest could match.

“Ok, everyone make your way to the lifts. Keep it quick, keep it calm, I promise I will not leave anyone behind.”

It was amazing how the people on the beach, people from a myriad of worlds and cultures, responded to that voice as if it was The Word of their own personal Goddess. Waves of tourists, some with minor injuries from the unexpected swell, began to trudge towards the lifts where a large crowd was starting to gather. The growing number of confused, panicking holiday makers, all of them rich, entitled and desperate to leave, was creating a scrum at the exit which wouldn’t need much more to tip over into chaos.

“Jiat, Myax, you work here. Go make sure there’s not a riot on our hands. You two,” she turned to Phryne and Jack, “let’s fish out the stragglers. Try not to get eaten.”

The two Rylians headed up the beach, Myax’s uniform attracting attention as they organised the crowd, and helped shepherd the frightened people to safety. Jiat even managed to make himself useful, possibly out of terror of what would happen to him if he didn’t.

The Doctor’s eyes were dancing as she began to run down the beach towards the waiting danger. Jumping into a hostile ocean to meet an unknown monster? It was practically a Christmas present - although those tended to be more thematic. They hadn’t even reached the water by the time the beast struck.

It was the same creature that had attacked the two detectives in the cavern, although perversely the larger space made it seem even bigger. The pale flesh of its scales glinted white in the artificial light, its jaws wide and slathered with spittle. It could have swallowed a biplane without the need to chew.

The Doctor stopped but did not back down.

“Cute, but you can do better, Ushas. Leave these people alone.”

There was nothing but a roar from the beast, no indication at all that it even understood the Doctor’s words as speech, but it did appear to be focused on the little figure in her crimson towel, standing at the edge of the waves. Phryne and Jack had stripped off their towelwear and dived into the water, taking advantage of the distraction to extract the last few struggling holiday makers from the heaving sea.

“Enough, Ushas. I know what you have been doing. I will find you, and if anyone is dead, if you have killed for this, I swear you will know why even the Time Lords fear me.”

Nothing. Not even a glint in the mad, opalescent eyes to indicate that there was anything but a crazed, hungry animal, intent on a sentient snack; but still it did not attack. Phryne and Jack had rescued the last of the tourists and shooed them on up the beach, the stragglers choking and wheezing as they fled the monstrosity still thrashing about in the water. Their task complete, the detectives shared a glance – wordlessly agreeing that the Doctor needed to leave - there was nothing they could do against that thing without a weapon. They sped towards the Time Lady, positioning themselves so they could each grab an arm and drag her away.

They were feet from the Doctor when the beast struck. It flowed through the sodden air with a lithe and hideous grace, as smooth as its passage through the water. It took as little notice of Phryne and Jack as it did of the white sun Thangos, miles above and still shining near its Zenith. The wyrm was wholly focused on the Doctor as she stood tiny and undefended on the shore. The whipping wind of its flight knocked the two detectives off their feet and they crashed to the sand, one on either side of the thick scaly body as it lunged and hit its target. Arching back over itself, it’s doubled length rising high above their heads, it splashed back into the deep water and away, leaving silence and an empty space where the Time Lady had stood.

Phryne scrambled up and rushed to the spot, as if she could somehow bring her friend back when she reached it. Bending down and shifting aside a little of the disturbed sand she picked up a small object, brushing it clean. Jack came up behind her, carrying the towels they had discarded on the shore.

“The Doctor’s psychic paper.” Phryne flipped it open.

_‘Don’t panic, I’m alright. Actually it’s quite roomy in here. She has what she came for. You will be safe now.’_

Jack met his partner’s eyes; he had no idea how the Doctor could have survived being swallowed by that thing, but sceptical as he was about psychic paper, the Time Lady was their only way home and he was not ready to spend the rest of his life on Rylia.

“I take it we’re going to rescue her?”

“Of course.”

He nodded in agreement, “Then we better go find our hosts and see if we can cadge a lift to the wrong side of the tracks.”

That settled, they made their way up the beach in search of Myax, wrapping their towelwear back around them as they walked.

***

In the end Jiat had actually proved surprisingly useful – possibly out of a fervent desire to see the back of them. Despite his many failings, the man could, when the occasion called for it, switch on the charm, and he had managed the crowd gathered by the lift with a surprising level of competence. He was not especially happy at the number of refunds he was going to have to issue, but the Fountain of Youth was not his only establishment and it was unlikely to bankrupt him. Played right, a sighting of one of The Legendary Wyrms of Rylia might even attract business in future. For the moment however, it looked like he was going to have his hands full personally escorting weeping aristocrats to their rooms whilst offering reassurances and complimentary alcohol.

As the throng of anxious holiday makers was causing long delays in getting back up to the upper levels of the hotel proper, he had suggested heading towards the lower levels by boat. A plan which had not occurred to Myax – primarily because they had no boat of their own and did not expect Jiat’s co-operation.

This was how the Rylian and two humans found themselves on the deck of a neat and luxurious pleasure yacht, a spacious silver vessel which probably cost more than the average Rylian made in a lifetime. Whatever passed for engines on the machine appeared to run in utter silence, ghosting along like a phantom in mist as they dropped down through a series of lock gates towards the dark of the city below.

“She’ll be alright you know.” Myax was watching Phryne’s uncharacteristically anxious face with sympathy.

“I knew Dr Monya was a Time Lady, I recognised the markings from the Doctor’s ship in the laboratory.” She ran a hand distractedly through her hair. “I was trying to find her but this place is like a maze.”

He was fully aware of the seriousness of the situation, but Jack couldn’t help but feel that being two steps behind for once was rather good for Phryne. Sadly, he was not any further ahead of the situation himself and he could not pretend it was good for anyone else, besides, there was no use her blaming herself.  “It wouldn’t have helped if we had, the Doctor already seemed well aware of what was going on.” He reassured her.

“The woman who worked in the lab, the Doctor called her The Rani,” Myax explained. “She’s a rogue Time Lady, a scientist, and wanted for all manner of crimes by the High Council of Gallifrey. The Doctor’s people,” they added, seeing Jack raise his eyebrow in question. “The man they sent after her before was a…friend,” they gave the kind of significant pause that easily communicated the nature of that friendship without the need for further elaboration. Myax was not a prudish being by nature but their relationship with the Corsair had not been exactly defined, a whirlwind romance brought to a sudden and terrifying stop.

“I’m guessing that she took him.” Their face had set in a steely line, a cold contrast to the softness of their silver fur. “And I am going to get him back.”

“You didn’t try to mount a rescue before?” Jack asked, curious.

Myax huffed out a short, self-depreciating laugh. “I was alone, I didn’t know who I was up against, and they were threatening to kill him. I was scared. I thought the Doctor would be so angry with me but…she barely noticed what I’d done – or failed to do – she was too worried about you two.”

Myax gave the detectives a sad little smile, more wistful than envious, they had no desire to run with the Doctor again, they had their own life after all – not to mention another handsome Time Lord to worry about.

“You seem like clever people so you may not need to be told, but if you are going to travel with her, you should know something. No-one gets to keep her. No-one. In the moment she might make you feel like you’re the only person that matters in the universe, but Time Lords – and Ladies – they are a race apart. One day, it will end and all you will have are memories. Treasure them.”

Jack’s jaw clenched ever so slightly. That little speech had hit a bit closer to home than Myax likely suspected. The expression was not lost on Phryne, but what comfort could she give? She was swimming in the unknown as much as he was, and they both knew there were precious few promises she could make that she could be sure to keep, however much she intended to try.

“Was it worth it” she asked the Rylian, quietly.

The reply came without hesitation. “Always. When you love someone, what can you do but hold on and hope for the best?” Their twilit eyes strayed to the porthole; the boat was speeding along on automatic and the darkness was increasing, so there was very little to see out of the tiny window. They were thinking of the Corsair, and of what might become of him now they had finally decided to act. Those threats had not been empty. They might no longer be alone, but there was no guarantee that would be enough to save him.

“You seem very certain the Doctor is still alive.” Jack made an attempt to steer the conversation into less treacherous territory.

“I’ve never known her not to be. It’s uncanny. Those around her are not always so lucky, but she will fight to the last breath to save them then regenerate and do it again.” It was something of an exaggeration in terms of their own experience – they had never seen the Doctor regenerate - but they had heard the stories, and knew their old friend well enough to know which parts of them would not change, no matter what face they wore. “If she got captured it was probably on purpose. She wanted to draw that thing away from the beach.”

“I’m still not sure how that creature or the body we found are connected with this other Time Lady. I presume the Doctor believed they were linked somehow,” Jack remarked thoughtfully.

“She certainly seemed to know more about it than we did – she called it by name for a start - and she was acting as if it could understand her. Were the wyrms of legend supposed to be intelligent?” Phryne directed her question at Myax, who considered the matter.

“Not in any of the stories I heard. They also did not eat people, they ate stone. That was the entire point of the legend, to explain how the catacombs were formed before we understood the science behind it. Still, as far as I know there are no reliable stories of anyone actually seeing one, rumours in the lower levels occasionally but nothing substantiated,” their voice took on a bitter, sarcastic edge, “besides, everyone knows the Tarka can’t be trusted.”

“You used that term before, when you were arguing with Jiat on the beach. I take it, it is not a compliment.” Phryne knew a pejorative when she heard one, she had inspired enough of them herself.

Myax’s smile had no humour in it. “No, it is not. Rylia is…well, you’ve seen it’s better side. Up here, close to the surface where the light still reaches us. The lower levels are…less hospitable. That’s where you end up if you can’t afford life close to the surface; the poor, the sick, the addicted, the mad, they all get left down in the dark to be forgotten about. The better off call us tarka. It’s a curse, it means ‘sunless dark’, and blame our fecklessness for our circumstances. Those of us who get out…we don’t like to go back.”

To Phryne the place sounded not dissimilar to Collingwood in some ways, although that at least had sunlight.

Myax met her eyes again, and there was a self-disgust there that was clear even to human eyes. Phryne knew that look, knew that guilt, it was the reason that she had once been able to claim with defiance that justice, not money was what drove her to take up a case. Myax though had never gone back, never returned to use their privilege to help those left behind, it could eat you up inside, to turn your back on your beginnings.

“Could I see that necklace, the one you found on the child?” Myax asked. Phryne handed it over and the Rylian examined it briefly before handing it back.

“These are common the lower levels,” they explained, “the charm is supposed to protect children from harm and ensure their return if they come to it.” They shook their head, forcing their voice to stay steady, no-one needed to comment on the fact it hadn’t worked. “The fossils are quite distinctive, it could help us find out whose body you found in the cave.”

“If Jiat evicted the people who lived there to make room for Dr Monya and her experiments, where would they have gone?” asked Jack.

“There are plenty of open tunnels down there, but the ones lower down are often unsafe, no food, the water is unsterilized. Some of the tunnels flood with the tide. If they were forced into those areas it would explain the body you found. If the Doctor was right and the wyrm and this Rani person are connected, maybe she learned how to train it to clean up her mess. No other bodies have been reported, not on hotel grounds anyway. The child you found may not have been the first victim.”

With this ominous pronouncement the three of them lapsed into silence, broken only by the slap of the water against the boat’s hull and the grind of the lock gates as they descended further down towards the dark heart of Rylia.


	11. Chapter Ten: Beyond the Reach of Sunlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor confronts Dr Monya in her laboratory whilst Myax and the detectives make an unexpected friend.

Getting swallowed by a giant, prehistoric space-wyrm, was not in fact as disgusting as might be expected, confirming a suspicion which had begun to form in the Doctor’s mind back on the beach. After a fairly horrible moment of moist darkness she found herself in a large, white room. It was circular, about 30ft in diameter with a small, round table in the centre. She was not alone. Huddled on the ground in front of the table was a figure, wearing the neat turquoise towelwear of the Fountain of Youth staff. She was holding the body of a Rylian child, clearly dead, and rocking it back and forth as if trying to comfort it.

Upon hearing the Doctor enter she looked up, and the Time Lady recognised her at once - it was Lilia, the receptionist they had met when they first entered the hotel the previous evening.

“Ambassador?” she sounded confused, hollow with grief.

“Not exactly.” The Doctor bent down to examine the body, confirming that there was nothing she could do for the child. “Who was he?” she asked, scanning the corpse almost absentmindedly with the sonic to determine the cause of death – blunt force trauma to the head, seawater in the lungs, probably hit his head then passed out in the water. It could have been an accident, but if so, what was he doing here?

“I don’t know. I don’t even know where I am. I was just delivering the daily schedule to Dr Monya and then I was just, here.” Her voice sounded small, childlike with fear and sadness; she couldn’t be more than 40, practically an infant by Rylian standards. “I want to go home.”

The Doctor gave the woman an awkward pat on the shoulder, – no doubt her presence complicated matters, and she was unlikely to be an especially helpful companion, but needs must, and if her guess was right, the Doctor had at least one Time Lord to rescue.

“Don’t worry, I’ll see you get there. And I’ll see this young man is returned to his family, if he has one.” The Doctor’s voice took on a hard, steely edge, “And someone is going to answer for what happened to him. Trust me.”

Disentangling the little body from Lilia’s arms, the Doctor placed it gently on the table, little smears of blood and grime marring the pristine, white surface. She brushed Lilia down, scanning her and the room surreptitiously, making certain checks and taking a few precautions. The woman continued to stare, horrified, at the child’s body as if she had never come face to face with death before. Satisfied with her efforts, the Doctor patted the woman’s shoulder, summoning her most reassuring face and handing the screwdriver over.

“Here, I suspect Dr Monya is about to make another appearance. Point this at any available door, press this button and think about it opening. It’s a telepathic control, you’ll be able to get away.” Lilia nodded, looking a little braver now she apparently had a plan and a means of escape.

Just as the Doctor had predicted, they were not kept waiting long. The blank white stretch of wall slid back to reveal Dr Monya and behind her, some kind of laboratory. She was still in her white towelwear and looking indescribably smug at having captured the Doctor.

“Hello, Doctor. A new face I see, female too – that’s a big step for you, you’re usually so very pedestrian.” She gestured to the two women to exit the room, stepping through the newly appeared door and into a vast laboratory, every surface a mess of tangled cables and strange machinery.

“And yet whenever we meet, I always seem to end up with the upper hand.” If the Doctor was worried she did not look it. She was watching her adversary closely, weighing her options, considering her next move.

“Not this time, Doctor. This time I have plans for you.”

“Really?” replied he doctor with undisguised sarcasm. “How sinister.”

“You always were short sighted. What I am doing here could revolutionise science. It could change the way with think about regeneration forever. The High Council didn’t understand, the fools tried to send their little lackey after me. As if he would be any kind of challenge.”

“You’ve been siphoning regeneration energy off of other Time Lords.” The Doctor no longer sounded flippant, she was cold in her anger; deadly and still, like a snake about to strike. “How many do you have and are any of them dead?”

“Please, Doctor. This is a highly efficient operation. I only needed one initially, and when she ran low on energy, the Council were generous enough to send me a replacement. It would have been bad manners to refuse.”

“Who was it, Ushas? Who did you kill?” if the use of her given name irritated her, the woman gave no sign of it. Lilia, on the other hand, appeared to be trembling with a combination of fear and rage, staring at the woman as if she was something from a nightmare, which in many ways she was. The erstwhile Dr Monya hadn’t even bothered to disarm her, and she was still clutching the sonic in the folds of her uniform.

“Oh, no-one you know, I’m sure. Just some little brat no-one was about to miss. Of course you could step in and let the Corsair escape a similar fate. Rumour has it that your regeneration energy is unlimited, so now I have you I might be persuaded to let him go. That should work out well for both of us Doctor, I know how much you love to make a noble sacrifice.”

“Apparently not as much as you love telling everyone your evil plans. Surely that has to backfire occasionally?” the Doctor muttered under her breath, making Lilia smile despite herself.

They had been marched to the centre of the lab where the complex spaghetti tangle of cabling and machinery converged on a plain metal chamber, not dissimilar from the Rejuvenation Chamber in the hotel, so many miles above them. Inside it, the Doctor could just make out the shape of a man, slumped against the wall, barely moving.

“Let him go, Ushas! He’s dying, he needs help.”

“Well that’s up to you now isn’t it, Doctor? Are you ready to take his place? Bearing in mind that any attempts to escape will result in his death – and that of your little friends – how is Miss Fisher doing by the way?”

For the first time the Doctor looked worried; she had not had time to check that nothing untoward had happened to Phryne in the Rejuvenation Centre, but there had been no indication in the computer records that she had been harmed. The change in expression did not go unnoticed.

“You really should be more careful with your toys, Doctor. I don’t know what you did to her but her timeline is a mess. Don’t worry. I didn’t hurt her - yet.”

The Doctor’s hearts sank, it was what she had been afraid of. No matter how many times she made the mistake she never seemed to learn that humans needed to be protected, no matter how capable they seemed.

Dr Monya continued in the same self-satisfied tone that made the Doctor’s skin crawl. “In fact, I even helped her. It would be a shame to let the opportunity to study that kind of temporal anomaly expire too quickly.”

She did not expand on the explanation, but strode over to the metal chamber and opened the door. The man inside was tall, with long red hair and tanned, muscular arms – one bearing the snake tattoo he had in every regeneration. The Doctor was fairly sure this was not the body he had had when he met his untimely death in a parasite universe, but it was difficult to tell, there had not been a lot of him left. The smaller figure of Dr Monya manoeuvred him out of the little chamber without apparent effort and let him slump against the nearest bank of computer monitors. His long lashes fluttered against his cheeks as he stirred but did not wake.

It was at this point that the Doctor realised he had not been alone. Huddled against his chest, fast asleep and pale as death, was a Gallifreyan child.

The Doctor was shoved unceremoniously into the chamber before she could raise a hand to help, as she turned to the door she caught Lilia’s eye – she was still standing frozen in horror, clutching the screwdriver. “Run, Lilia, run!” she shouted.

Lilia obeyed, knocking over a set of shelves in an attempt to make a clean get away from the mad scientist who still held the Doctor firmly by the arm. Dropping the Doctor and slamming the door, Dr Monya gave chase, skidding on the broken fragments of glass and metal from whatever twisted experiments had occupied that shelving.

As Lilia reached the door at the far end of the laboratory she brandished the sonic screwdriver like a wand, waving it wildly in the hope of opening the door at speed. There was a bright flash, the smell of burnt metal and every piece of machinery in the room fizzed and died.

Including Dr Monya.

The Doctor took advantage of the now unlocked door of the chamber to exit into the dark laboratory, pulling a torch from the infinitely sized pocket of her towelwear. It was in the shape of a hedgehog – wherever did she pick these things up? She clicked it on, and searched the corner of the room.

The erstwhile Dr Monya was standing stock still with glazed eyes and still smoking slightly from her nose. Really it had been a very convincing android – the Doctor could easily have been fooled – Ushas always had been the clever one when it came to machinery. As it was she had been lucky, her visit to the Rejuvenation Centre back in the Fountain of Youth had included the destruction of an android recharge unit which was clearly Gallifreyan in origin. She had been expecting this.

Lilia was gone, which was hardly a surprise. They were apparently still on Rylia, but they must be miles below the surface here and she would want to find her way back to the upper levels.

Down by her feet, the Doctor heard a groan. “Who’s there? Myax, is that you?”

It seemed the Corsair had decided to join her.

***

Myax and the two detectives disembarked their boat at a crude stone jetty, roughly hewn from the rock and slippery with unnameable muck. It was not at all pleasant to walk in on bare feet, and Phryne wrinkled her nose has she stepped into it but otherwise paid no attention. There was no light at all from the surface at this level, the combination of dirt and depth cutting off the sunlight even at high noon. The walls were a blurry patchwork of intermittent stars, not the pale ghost-light they had seen from the flowers on the beach, but the deep red of the blooms which had surrounded the little body in the cave. Jack peered through the wall closest to him, trying to work out if they had walked into a slaughterhouse.      

Myax noticed him staring. “Alia orchids. The varieties at this level are mostly carnivorous. At the surface they can process sunlight, though they will consume blood if they come in contact with it – it makes them glow red for some reason.” The statement had not done much to reassure him and perhaps they had guessed it because they continued in a more matter of fact tone. “People down here call them boneflowers, they feed them for the light, nothing to worry about.”

Jack nodded and turned to Phryne who was peering up the tunnel, trying to find an obvious sign of their goal and clearly restraining herself with difficulty from not wandering off. At least this time she hadn’t got a hip flask with her, but probably only because towelwear did not provide the room for one. Jack offered her his arm and she smiled, struck by the oddly familiar comfort of walking arm in arm as if this was just another investigation. Phryne would never admit it, but the closeness of the tunnels down here was not something she was enjoying. For the first time since landing on Rylia, she felt a desperate longing for open sky above her. She gripped Jack’s arm a little tighter, the touch of their bare skin making the innocent gesture feel unusually intimate, and they marched on down the tunnel towards their goal.

It came much sooner than expected. Myax had estimated it would take around ten minutes to reach the tunnels that Jiat owned and where they might find the Doctor. In fact, the sounds of habitation were audible after turning the first corner and it wasn’t long before they realised why. The corridor opened out into a series of caverns, not unlike the one they had landed in, open water taking up one side, but without the locks to bring the ships in close. Some were still pools, like smaller variations of the pleasure beach by the hotel, others were a chocked miasma of churning water, shifting and gurgling as the tide wore away the rock and it drained down, opening up the lower tunnels. By the tide lines along the walls and floor, many of these rooms must flood at intermittent periods, the deep water commanded by the gravity of the suns they could not see.

There were about fifty Rylians, adults and children, crowded against the far wall of one of the caverns. Makeshift homes, constructed out of hanging cloth, driftwood and bits of rubbish – whatever could be scrounged or salvaged – were dotted around what appeared to be a firepit in the centre. All of them were wearing the same rough, grey fabric as the child they had found on the beach, and they were watching the newcomers silently with hollow, hungry eyes - wary but not exactly hostile.

Jack, who was used to exercising authority in places where people would rather not talk to him, put on his best Detective Inspector voice – or as close as he could get to it whilst wearing nothing but a towel.

“Is anyone in charge here?” he asked the group of assembled Rylians, who exchanged wary glances, unwilling to be the one to come forward. They had the look of a people who had for too long been beaten and broken against the rocks of the caverns, and had no reason to expect a divergence from their routine to herald anything but further pain. Eventually one of them stepped forward.

“What are you doing down here, uplanders?” his voice was gruff, unfriendly and unwelcoming.

“Damik?” Myax ran towards the man, arms outstretched, the delighted expression on their face practically lighting up the cavern.

The man did a double take; he was shorter than Myax by several inches and had to peer up myopically into their face for a few seconds before the glimmer of recognition entered his wide eyes, red stained in the bloody light.

“Myax? Little, Myax? Is it really you? All grown up. Whatever have you done to your lovely hair child? Is that what these uplanders have taught you now?” he shook his head in disbelief but the atmosphere in the cavern thawed perceptibly and the two human began to relax.

“Damik, why are you all down here? It’s not safe, this cavern is barely above water level?”

“Why do you think, child?” the man snapped. “There’s nowhere else for us. Not since they kicked us out of The Pit. It was a shithole right enough, but at least our kids didn’t get washed out to sea at high tide.”

There was still enough bitterness for him to be angry; most of the other’s looked as if anger was a distant memory. They were waiting to die down here, all of them. Down in the dark, without light or hope, and Jiat had done that to them. Jiat and the woman who had apparently taken the Doctor. Assuming their friend had not simply been eaten.

Phryne gripped Jack’s arm tighter, remembering the little body on the beach, abandoned in the pleasure caverns of the rich far away from those who loved him. The Doctor had been right. They would pay. She would see to it.

“You said you had lost children, Damik?” Phryne held out the necklace she had taken from the body on the beach, “Were any of them wearing this?”

The old man shuffled closer to her, and took the little ring of stone between stiff fingers feeling the weight and the tiny pits and ridges in the smooth stone; the grey fur on his hands and wrists was missing in patches, the skin beneath dry and wrinkled like old newspaper.

“Yes,” He whispered, “he was my grandson, Lamin. He’s dead, I take it?”

“I’m sorry. We tried to bring him back, but he was…taken.” She couldn’t bring herself to say the word eaten.

“By the wyrm? It’s late then, it usually brings them back sooner.” He closed his hand around the little fossil and Phryne let the chain slip from her fingers.

“You’ve seen it then, the wyrm?”

He nodded, turning his head to look out at the turbulent ocean, swirling and churning at the far end of the cavern. “Since we were thrown out of The Pit we have seen it far too often. It brings them back you see, the ones taken by the water. Brings them back so they can light the way.” He looked up at her sharply, as if seeing her and Jack properly for the first time. “And what would you know or care about a little Tarka child?” he sniffed at her, and Phryne wondered if he could see at all in the dim red light of carnivorous flowers, “not even an uplander, an outlander by the smell of you. Never heard of your kind this far down that didn’t come looking for trouble.”

Jack had to hollow his cheeks to stop himself smirking at how effectively the man had his partner pegged, before realising that he had been the one to suggest this rescue in the first place. She really was a terrible influence on him.

“I would have thought a dead child would be everyone’s concern, no matter where they come from.” She sounded more shocked than she felt, it was more a statement of how things should be than how they clearly were.

“Life is cheap on Rylia.” The old man snorted at what he evidently considered off-world naivety and began to walk away.

“Damik,” Myax followed his shuffling footsteps and the detectives trailed after them, picking their way carefully through the filth and debris that lined the cavern floor. “We heard about The Pit, that’s why we came. Do you know anything about the woman that took it over after you were evicted?”

“Only that if you try to get back in, you end up as boneflowers.”

They had reached the centre of the shanty town and come up alongside what the two humans had taken to be some kind of communal bonfire. It was not. At the bottom of a shallow, carved pit, hundreds upon hundreds of Alia orchids were flowering, blooming red, lighting up the hollow faces of the people surrounding it. All around and between them were the bones of the dead, slowly feeding the silent, living flames, lighting the way for the living until they too succumbed to hunger, or the hungry tide.

Phryne and Jack were used to death –  it was an inevitable part of their job and the sight was not in itself a cause for fear – but nonetheless they were brought up short by this harsh reality. The bodies they could see, those not unrecognisable through decomposition, had been positioned with a loving care. Naked, holding each other, as if the living could not bear for the dead to be lonely.

Myax looked at them. “Closer to the surface, this is done in private. I think it’s better this way. The dead should light the way, it’s how I was taught. I take it this is not the way on Earth?”

Jack shook his head but said nothing, more out of his element here, and somehow more aware of the truly alien nature of their surroundings, than he had felt playing naked in the sea, carefree and ready to embrace all the adventures of a brand-new world.

Before either Jack or Phryne could come up with a response the whole group was startled by the  heaving rumble which had preceded the previous arrivals of the wyrm. It was somehow louder down here in the dim, red dark. The echoes bouncing off the walls growing louder and louder in the close, damp air. The assembled Rylians began to sway and chant as if in prayer, rhythmical and harmonic, the sound was nevertheless unnerving in its melancholy. A desperate people’s worship of a god that brought them death and light, without hope or the promise of redemption.

Whilst the locals were distracted in song, the newcomers’ attention was diverted by an unexpected arrival. A Rylian woman, wearing the staff uniform of the Fountain of Youth, had come running full pelt into the corridor, screaming at the top of her lungs.

“Help, help, someone! He’s got the Ambassador!”

It was Lilia, the receptionist from the Fountain of Youth who had been missing from her post when Phryne had made her unsuccessful attempt to track down the Doctor. Before Myax and the detectives had a chance to wonder what on Rylia she was doing down here, they were visited by a much more pressing problem.

The wyrm, scales glistening scarlet, and razor teeth bared, burst into the cavern in an explosion of white water burnt to a bloody foam by the light of the boneflowers. It towered above the assembled crowd, who, with the exception of the newcomers, dropped to their knees in a desperate, silent prayer more ominous than song.


	12. Chapter Eleven: Paying the Price

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and the Corsair work together to revive another of the Rani's victims and face down the Rani, but even cornered and finally unmasked the Rani has a last trick up her evil sleeve...

It took a little while to bring the Corsair round. Time Lords healed fast but he had suffered months of incarceration during which his regeneration energy had been repeatedly drained and syphoned off for use in the various RejuviTech therapies being sold at the Fountain of Youth.

The little girl in his arms was around 65 – and could have passed for 5 or 6 if she were human. Despite their joint efforts she would not wake, although a cursory examination showed she was still alive. Whilst the Doctor examined the patient, the Corsair began dismantling part of the chamber in which he had been imprisoned, finally extracting a large vial of glowing golden energy.

“This is what she needs, I just hope it’s enough, I’ve been doing my best for her but she had already been here for months before I arrived. There’s barely any life left in her.” He looked sadly at the child he had given at least half a life to protect.

“I can’t believe I let the Rani get the drop on me,” he said bitterly. “Myax tipped me off that Dr Monya was involved, said they were thinking of confronting her and – damn fool that I am - I ran off in search of a showdown, hoping to keep Myax out of trouble. Bad move. That android had me completely fooled. I was expecting to face the Rani - not the best odds but I stood a chance - sodding robot threw me across the room! When I woke up I was down here.” He stroked the dark hair away from the girl’s sleeping eyes, the tender gesture completely at odds with rapid litany of self-depreciating curses. 

“Her name’s Stojan,” he added, “she went missing from an orphanage on Gallifrey; the Rani must have snatched her and she’s been sucking the life out of the poor kid like a gods damn vampire ever since. I was sent to track them down in the vain hope I could get here before it was too late.”

“And you did, nothing’s been in vain; she’s still alive, thanks to you.” The Doctor put a comforting arm on her friend’s bare shoulder. He had always been a good man (or woman on occasion), the Doctor would have expected nothing less of him.

“She will survive I think,” the Corsair still sounded angry, “but she will never regenerate.”

It was like knowing she would never grow up.

The Doctor nodded, teeth clenched against the wave of bile and rage rising up inside her. With the two of them there, the question was less whether or not they would catch the Rani, more who would hold them back when they did. For now though, they had more important matters to attend to.

The Corsair released the catch on the vial under Stojan’s nose, the golden glow seeped out slowly like heavy smoke, little tendrils of light wrapping round the girl and dancing over her skin, filling the little form with an inner radiance. At long last, she opened her eyes.

“Where am I?” her eyes were dark as her hair and wide with fear and confusion, her light brown skin clammy and pallid under it’s healthy dusting of freckles.

“It’s OK, sweetheart, you’re alright.” The Corsair’s voice was melodic and soothing, surprisingly soft for such a large man. The Doctor was grateful that her friend appeared to possess the people skills that did not appear to come easily in her current body. She had no idea how to comfort this child, although she had a few choice ideas about what to do with the people responsible for her condition.

With the Corsair’s help, Stojan had reached a sitting position and was looking fearfully around the laboratory, her thin arms, still covered with the plain blue uniform of the orphanage from which she had been kidnapped, were wrapped around his thick bicep. She might not have been awake for most of her ordeal, but apparently she remembered enough to see him as a source of safety and comfort. From the way he was looking at her, the Doctor suspected that Sojan would never return to her orphanage, she had clearly found a father, unlikely a choice as he was.

“Where is she? We have to go, if she comes back she’ll hurt us!” the girl’s voice was still a little shaky, but her strength was visibly returning and she seemed unsurprisingly eager to leave the place she had been imprisoned. 

“I wouldn’t worry about that.” the Doctor replied grimly, gesturing to the still, but no longer smoking form of the erstwhile Dr Monya. It was probably not the right way to comfort a terrified child she reflected, but without any real idea what the right way might be.

“Not the robot, the furry lady, the one who brought me here.”

The Corsair looked at the Doctor in astonishment. “The Rani’s working with a Rylian?”

The Doctor shook her head and tried hard not to look too smug about having worked the next bit out.

“No, the Rani _is_ Rylian, or at least she looks like one; her experiments with regeneration have apparently been bearing all kinds of fruit.”

Her friend looked down in embarrassment, “I was way out of my league taking this assignment on, I knew it could happen in theory but I had no idea she’d changed her appearance so radically.”

The Doctor patted her friend on the shoulder in commiseration. No Time Lord liked to lose.

“I know how you feel. You know she killed me once?”

The Corsair looked at her in surprise, slightly mollified that whilst he had been bested, he was at least in good company.

“Oh yes, very unpleasant day, I think there was a dinosaur involved, or was that the time before?” the Doctor mused, distracted by her own mental meandering. “Still, I’d rather not make a habit of it.”

She was looking at the open entrance to the lower tunnels, a tiny hint of the red glow beyond reflected in her grey eyes. She looked dangerous, cold, there was no hint of mercy in her face. The distant memory of a long dead friendship had made this evil personal, and even without the injured child still struggling to her feet behind her, there was the matter of Miss Fisher still hanging between the Doctor and the Rani. Despite his own pain and anger, not to mention humiliation at how easily he had been bested, it occurred to the Corsair that he might be facing the unenviable task of holding the Doctor back if he wanted to return the Rani to Gallifrey as he had been ordered. He was not sure he would be able to muster much enthusiasm on that score.

“You know who she is then? I can’t imagine she was working alone, someone at the hotel at least must have known about her.” he tried to pull his friend back into the present, whatever happened after, they would need to find their quarry first.

“Oh yes, you’re quite right” replied the Doctor grimly, “and there will be consequences.”

***

Their progress through the twisted, red lit corridors of the lower levels was faster than might have been expected with an injured child in tow. The Corsair had hoisted Stojan onto his shoulders and despite the pain and danger of her life on Rylia so far, the girl actually appeared to be enjoying herself. More than once the Doctor had been forced to hush her giggling. Not that their progress could have exactly been called stealthy anyway.

Rounding the final corner into a wide cavern the Time Lords walked right into an argument.

Along the edge of the little shanty down, their downturned faces in shadow, damp fur reflecting the deep red of the Alia orchids, were at least fifty Rylians, prostrate in prayer. High above them, towering against the ceiling of the cavern was the huge, pale wyrm which had taken the Doctor at the beach. It was motionless as a statue, dripping with sea water, it’s eyes glowing red as boneflowers in the dark.

Between the assembled Rylians and the wyrm, four people – two humans and two Rylians – were still on their feet and shouting at one another.

“We can’t just rush in there without knowing what we are up against.” Jack was insisting, “We’re no good to the Doctor if we get ourselves killed.”

“But we do know, Jack, Lilia was there, she can show us how to get in and give us an idea of the laboratory’s defences.” Phryne was apparently itching to be on the move.

“I can’t go back, I can’t, he’ll kill me.” Lilia’s voice was a terrified wail that set the teeth on edge, looking up she saw the Doctor and the Corsair enter the cavern and screamed, pointing over at the Corsair. “It’s him, he’s the one who took me.”

She turned and began to run full pelt towards the door at the other end of the room. Myax and the two humans followed her gaze, momentarily wrong footed by the new development. The subterfuge was short lived; on spotting the Corsair, Myax’s face split into a gorgeous smile of unadulterated relief and happiness. They ignored Lilia completely and began to run in the opposite direction, towards their lover’s open arms.

“That’s her, that’s the furry lady!” it was Stojan, and she was pointing at Lilia.

“Don’t let that woman leave this cavern!” The Doctor shouted, hoping that at least one amongst her three friends was quick enough on the uptake.

Lilia looked back and let out a foul string of Gallifreyan curses just as Jack caught up with her, Phryne barely two steps behind.

“Back off!” the Rani brandished the sonic screwdriver at him and he hesitated, unsure if the thing was technically a weapon. It was enough for her to regain the advantage. “Call them off, Doctor, or your little science experiment dies!”

She was looking at Phryne. Out of the recesses of her staff issue towelwear – which apparently did come with pockets – she pulled the obsidian rectangular device Phryne had seen Dr Monya use back in the Rejuvenation Centre.

“What have you done to her?” the Doctor asked, quietly.

Despite the crowd, and the still, silent monster above them, the room was hushed, the only sounds the gentle splash of water and the steady drip-drip as it drained from the massive body of the wyrm.

“Nothing worse than you, you old hypocrite,” the erstwhile Lilia spat back at her, “whatever did you do to her timeline? She should be at least three hundred by my calculations. Fascinating case study, I extended her lifespan to keep up observations for longer, but I won’t hesitate to terminate the experiment early if you don’t do as I say.” 

“Excuse me, but what is going on?” Phryne was not about to be talked over, especially if the conversation appeared to be about her. “I don’t know who you think I am, but you certainly haven’t ‘extended my lifespan’ we’ve barely even met!”

The Doctor sighed, “This the Rani. She’s the reason the planet needed our help. The woman you knew as Dr Monya was a robot, operating under her control.”

“Please Doctor, nothing so crude as a robot – Dr Monya was an android – and a highly sophisticated one at that. She filled your little friend with enough nanobots to scramble her from the inside out, not to mention monitor her fascinating condition until it finally kills her. You really do come across the most interesting specimens.”

Phryne felt a creeping horror steal over her as the truth dawned - the family planning device, the Rejuvenation Chamber. She should never have trusted that damn doctor. Quickly she flexed her hand and willed the device out of her body. Nothing happened. The Rani apparently noticed the action and gave her a smug, condescending smile but did not trouble to comment. This was just as she had planned.

Dark storm clouds of apoplectic rage crossed Jack’s face and he rounded on the Doctor and Myax, furious that Phryne had been sent into such a dangerous situation unprepared for who or what she would be facing. He stopped.

The Doctor had crossed most of the space between them, her storm-cloud eyes fixed on the Rani, Myax however was halfway across the cavern wrapped in a close embrace with the Corsair. He had apparently lowered Stojan from his shoulders, and she was standing on the ground next to them wearing the irritable and mildly embarrassed expression of any child in the presence of grown-ups kissing. As the couple showed no sign of stopping, and apparently bored, the child turned to admire the wyrm still towering above the scene, completely stationary, gleaming in the red light. It spoke volumes for the show-stopping power of Gallifreyan drama that the thing had been so utterly upstaged.

Jack felt his anger subside a little, he knew how he would have felt if it Phryne were kidnapped and imprisoned and he was powerless to help her. He had not forgiven Myax for their role in putting Phryne in Dr Monya’s way, but he found he could not begrudge them this moment, poised in mortal danger as if time had stopped for them, they deserved that after all they had been through. Gods, was he really becoming that sentimental? It must be all the unaccustomed sex.

Myax pulled back, stroking their long fingers down the Corsair’s cheek as if to reassure theirself that he was really there.

“You don’t seem too damaged my love?” they asked, hoping it was true.

“I’ll live.” The man smiled, all of the weariness of his ordeal falling from his face. “Let me introduce you to my friend, this is Stojan.”

Myax knelt down to say hello to the little girl, who was looking a bit put out at being ignored, despite her apparent admiration for the massive sea creature looming over the scene.

“You look like the furry lady but you’ve got no hearts. We’re not on Gallifrey anymore are we?”

“No sweetheart, we’re not, but the Corsair will take you home again soon.”

“Are you going to come?”

Myax glanced up at the Corsair who grinned at them in clear invitation.

“You know I think I might.” Myax smiled and ruffled the girl’s hair.

That was enough of a moment, Jack decided, attempting to take charge of the situation, his attention on the crowd of silent Rylians and the wyrm, which he viewed with considerably more apprehension than Stojan apparently did. Everything else could wait.

He turned back to the Doctor and Phryne who were still staring in horror at the Rani, apparently oblivious to the scene behind them and took his partner’s arm, feeling her tremble underneath her standard issue bravado. He gave it a squeeze, trying to draw her back to him, she was no damsel no matter how distressed and they had a job to do. “We need to get these people to safety, that thing could attack again at any time.”

Phryne nodded, unspeakably grateful for his lack of coddling, too ashamed of her own stupidity in trusting Dr Monya to have any interest in anyone’s sympathy. He was right as well, there were people here who needed their help. Her train of thought was rudely interrupted by the Rani, who seemed to have other ideas.

“Not so quick on the uptake that one, and he’s not even a scientific curiosity. I will never understand what you see in these primitive species, Doctor.” She smiled contemptuously, her pitiless opalescent eyes fixed on the Doctor’s who looked away. This was all her fault, she had failed in her duty of care and could barely meet her friends’ eyes as she explained.

 “You were right about the space-wyrms, Jack. Ridiculous idea. That’s her TARDIS.”

“At least someone’s paying attention,” crowed the Rani. “Yes, that’s my TARDIS, in which I will now be leaving. Unless you want your little friend scrambled from the inside out?”

The Doctor scowled and bit her lip.

“No matter where you go, I will catch up with you and you will pay for what you have done here!” it was the Corsair, his eyes dark and vengeful. He was a large man and his voice was lowered in a menacing growl that could have brought armies to their knees.

“Terrifying. I’ll be sure to keep a rejuvenation chamber free for you,” replied the Rani contemptuously, “and one for the brat too, if you’d like to bring her along.”

Stojan was cowering, clearly terrified behind the Corsair’s legs and Myax too had stepped forward as if to shield her from danger. The Rani’s attention however, was still on the Doctor, who of all of the people present was the only one she appeared to view as any kind of threat. She made a point of keeping the other Time Lady in view as she walked smartly over to the wyrm which lowered its head and opened its jaws wide enough to admit her. She disappeared inside without a backwards look, and the jaws snapped shut behind her.

“Doctor!” Phryne shouted indignantly, “you can’t just let her get away like that!”

To everyone’s surprise, the look of defeat and fear had vanished from the Doctor’s face. She was in fact grinning. It was an expression of super-human smugness that even Phryne at her most self-satisfied could not have matched.

“One day,” the Doctor mused, “people are going to work out not to let me into their secret lair with a sonic screwdriver in my pocket. I set up a little failsafe in case she tried to make a getaway.”

The wyrm began to tremble, its shape fluctuating and distorting as if it was occupying several dimensions at once – which it quite probably was – then, with a sound like the air being let out of a cheap party balloon, it shrank. The massive body folded in on itself, the white of its scales darkening to a dull, gunmetal grey. Once it approached the size of a small horse there was a shudder as it coughed something onto the sand before dropping into the shallows with a faint splash.

There was a shocked silence.

Damik, the elder Rylian of the lower tunnels, had been knelt as close to the wyrm as he dared, praying it would show mercy upon the living and the dead and paying no attention to the arguments between the aliens and upworlders – at least until one of them had disappeared into the wyrm and apparently destroyed it. When he approached the place where the wyrm had been, he found to his astonishment that his prayers had been answered; there in the shallows of the water, lay the body of his grandson. Lamin, the young boy Phryne and Jack had found on the beach so many levels above, had been delivered home to his family. He would not be alone in death and they would not live on in darkness.

Beside the body, unnoticed and unremarked by the old man, lay a plain grey cube, no more than four inches square and covered in archaic symbols. Next to that, blinking with a purple light, barely visible in the deep red of the cavern, was the Doctor’s sonic screwdriver.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the Rani did cause the Doctor to regenerate once. There was also an incident with a dinosaur and they did go to the Time Lord Academy together along with The Master. They have a storied past. I really hope someone brings her back in the new series.


	13. Chapter Twelve: The Cost of Living

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The return to the Fountain of Youth includes a party and a few choice words with a very uncomfortable Jiat.

If you were looking for a silver lining, it was a least the last funeral to be held in that place. Like so many of the things Phryne and Jack had seen on Rylia, it was at once wonderful and strange. Alien, sad, but in its own way, beautiful.

Lamin’s little body was divested of the dirty tunic he wore and anointed with water from the ocean. Then Damik, who appeared to be some kind of unofficial religious leader, brought out an ornate silver knife from one of the makeshift shelters. It was the only beautiful object they had seen in this lost little world. He sliced into the boy’s skin with a love and reverence that held no hint of butchery; the sliver blade left swirls of crimson in intricate patterns across his bare chest and back, visible in the red light only by the contrast in texture between the shining liquid and the boy’s damp fur. His face, still broken by the rocks and the tide, was left untouched.

The little body was placed carefully in the boneflower pit and the flowing blood dripped down amongst the orchids until they shone, brighter even than the red dawn that Phryne had been so entranced by when they first landed on the planet. The Rylian’s around them began to sing in a low bass hum, and whether by quirk of technology or sense of respect, the TARDIS did not translate the words. She did not need to. They spoke of loss, of sadness, and of a light in dark places that not even death could extinguish.

When the song was over, Damik knelt by the pit and picked a flower, turning and handing it to Stojan was stood close by, at her own insistence. She was solemn in the face of death, but unafraid, child or not, she had survived the time war that had taken her parents, she was no stranger to death. The little girl took the flower with thanks and hugged Damik tight around the legs until he couldn’t help but smile. Extricating himself from the hug, he bent again, plucking another flower and handing it to Myax, who holding the Corsair’s hand. Flower after flower was plucked and handed out – although hundreds still remained. The light did not fade from them for several hours, Myax explained in a low whisper to the off-worlders, they would take them to their new home.

It was lucky that the pleasure boat they had arrived on was designed to hold so many people. Jiat had used it to throw the kind of raucous parties that Phryne might, in other circumstances have thoroughly enjoyed. The gathering now was considerably more sedate, Rylians of all ages, huddled and uncertain in the unfamiliar luxury and Myax and the Corsair busied themselves playing host and hostess, distributing refreshments from the little galley and offering reassurance and encouragement to the frightened refugees.

The Doctor sat a little apart, watching the light grow as they climbed closer to the surface. The two humans were sat close together, deep in conversation with one of the Rylians about the funeral customs on the lower levels and apparently fascinated. Their capacity for denial in the face of Phryne’s increasing complicated temporal damage a testament to the resilience of their species. When in doubt, pretend it’s not there. It should be a universal human catch phrase.

Guilt was writhing in the Doctor’s gut at the sight. She should probably never have brought them here, should have dropped Phryne safely back in Melbourne, kept an eye on her from a distance and hoped that her timeline stayed stable. It would have been the safest way. The Doctor had never really been fond of the safest way, and Phryne was so brave and so curious, despite the pain and danger she had endured. The woman was owed an adventure, some tiny recompense for the damage the universe had dealt her, and so, against her better judgement the Doctor had brought her out here, and it had made things worse.

Stojan dropped into the seat beside her, little legs swinging where they couldn’t reach the ground. Myax had apparently managed to find some kind of spare towelwear in the standard turquoise of the Fountain of Youth staff. It was far too big for Stojan and had to be folded double to prevent it tripping her up as she walked.

“I know about you, Doctor.” She explained proudly.

“Really? Oh dear. Does that mean I’m in trouble?”

The girl giggled, her hand in front of her mouth. It was remarkable how quickly the child was recovering. The Doctor considered her with the eyes of a Time Lady, eyes that could see a person’s past and possible futures laid out before them as easily as they could see their present. She saw Stojan’s parents, victims of the Time War that had claimed so many Gallifreyan lives, a young life marked by loss and strength. She would make a hell of a Time Lady herself one day, regeneration or not.

“My friend the Corsair says we are going to have a party when we get to the hotel. There’s going to be food and dancing. Will you dance with me, Doctor?”

“I would love to, I’m a bit old and creaky though, you might have to put up with me stepping on your little toes.” The Doctor smiled despite herself at the incongruously happy little face, unbroken in the face of so much trauma. Her eyes shifted to the two humans once again, still reflecting on the surprising and inspiring resilience of children.

Stojan giggled again and rushed off, oversized towelwear tangling around her legs, intent on passing on the vital information about her new dance partner to the Corsair and Myax 0who were still checking up on the refugees, trying to reassure everyone (including themselves that their plan was going to work. It had too. Rylia had been hiding this part of itself in the dark for far too long. It was time for a new dawn, and what better place than the Fountain of Youth – famed throughout the sector as a place of rebirth and rejuvenation?

When they reached the beach and the scene of the Doctor’s wyrm encounter, they left Stojan and the Rylians in the care of Damik and proceeded up in the lifts to Jiat’s office. He made a reasonable show of being pleased to see them but it was fairly obvious that they were an inconvenience he had hoped to have seen the last of. His mood was not improved when he found out what they wanted.

“Live here?!” Jiat spluttered, outrage temporarily overcoming his fear of the consequences and desire to maintain what he still appeared to think was a romantic rapport with Miss Fisher.

“Yes,” the Phryne explained. “Your guests appear to have deserted you in droves, you have plenty of space and you can afford it.”

She was smiling at him the way a cat might smile and an unsuspecting mouse and Jiat was too much of a fool to realise who was on the menu. Jack, who knew that look, was having to work very hard to hide how much he was enjoying himself, especially as Jiat was apparently intent on digging his way out of the hole he was in.

“I can see you’re a sweet soul Phryne, but you must know that’s not how a business works.”

Jack bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing, a little grateful that Phryne had still not been able to arm herself.

“You seem to be mistaking this for a request. I can assure you it is not.” She was still smiling, and amazingly, Jiat still wasn’t attempting to bolt for the exit.

“Well I’m always happy to indulge a pretty girl you know. I tell you what, how about I reopen The Pit, let them go home, whilst we retire to my private beach and get better acquainted.”

Phryne laughed, harsh and humourless. “I’d sooner feed you to the wrym,” she replied contemptuously, “tell me Doctor, how easily can that be arranged?”

“Extremely easily.” The Time Lady turned to Jiat with pitiless eyes, and it finally appeared to dawn on him just how much trouble he was in. “I just attended the funeral of a child, who died because of your culpable negligence,” the Doctor added. “I told you you were going to pay and believe me, this is the easiest way - unless you would like to join your former business associate in here?” She tossed the sealed metallic cube that had once been the Rani’s TARDIS from hand to hand. “Don’t worry, it’s roomier than it looks.”

Jiat eyed the little cube with confused suspicion, he didn’t need to understand the threat to know that’s what it was and the Doctor had begun to frighten him.

“I will be returning to Gallifrey with my prisoner,” the Corsair chimed in, his height and weight an added incentive towards obedience. “I do not have to take you with me, or tell them about your wilful involvement in her plans...” he let the thread hang, smiling slightly. He had never liked Jiat.

The Rylian looked from one to the other, feeling trapped, opened his mouth to argue, closed it, then looked towards the door as if finally considering a run for it. Jack was there, leaning unsmiling against the doorframe, blocking the exit. Jiat gave up.

“Oh, very well. They can stay. Don’t expect me to hang around looking after them though. I have far better things to be doing. Myax, you’ll take care of it?”

“I’m going on holiday,” they shook their head decisively; they would no longer be taking this man’s orders. “I will however be back, and if things are not to my liking when I return, I have friends in high places.” They stroked a hand pointedly down the Corsair’s arm as they spoke.

“Holiday?” Jiat sounded as if he’d never heard the word before.

“Yes, I’ve always wanted to see Gallifrey, and someone needs to make sure this one doesn’t get kidnapped on the way home.” They sent a teasing glance at the Corsair, who was looking more than a little smitten. “Don’t worry, he has a time machine, you won’t even know I’m gone!”

“They say there is no justice on Rylia,” observed the Doctor, her quiet voice commanding the room without effort. “This is mine. You do not want to try for vengeance.”

Jiat gave up, the last vestiges of bravado dropping away; he stared at his feet, playing awkwardly with the black fabric of his towel. “I didn’t know, about the deaths,” he said, “she – Dr Monya – told me the wyrm would be there to clear up any evidence of what she was doing. I didn’t ask what she meant. Then she started making all of these demands, forced me to hire Lilia. She threatened to take the RejuviTech and leave, I would have lost a fortune.” He looked up at Myax, and there was a level of contrition and self-disgust in his face that they had not believed him capable of.

“I’m so sorry, Myax. I must have been such a disappointment.”

“I won’t pretend this isn’t lower than I thought even you could stoop, but I never expected anything from you but superficial charm and the ability to leave my business well alone whilst you stuck to the philandering and gluttony you knew best. Perhaps you could see this as an opportunity to become a better man.”

Their words hit home, harder than the Doctor’s threats ever could. Jiat had known and respected Myax for nearly twenty years and had trusted them to be the brains of his operation for most of that time. He was not a man given to introspection, but the discovery that that respect had only ever gone one way hurt. It was a long way from perfect justice, but he would try, at least for a little while, to earn their respect.

He glanced up, made to speak, to apologise, and appeared to realise that there was no apology he could make. “I, I will try,” he muttered, and slunk from the room. After making brief eye contact with the Doctor, whom he had reluctantly acknowledged as the closest person there to a legal authority, Jack moved aside to let him pass as the group silently wished him good riddance.

***

The party was everything Stojan could have hoped for. It was held in the large dining hall where the Doctor and her friends had breakfasted that morning, just as the red dawn began once again to turn the blue light to pink and purple. The hotel had enough towelwear to provide clean clothes for the refugees, not to mention an abundance of delicious food – enough to satisfy even Jack’s legendary appetite.

True to her promise the Doctor did dance with Stojan, and anyone else who would agree to it. It was a matter of considerable amusement to Phryne and Jack who had both been formally educated in the art at one point or another. They could not resist the urge to show the assembled company how it was done, spinning gracefully in perfect time to the slow melodic hum of the impromptu acapella choir organised at speed by Damik and his friends.

Eventually though, after the food and the talk and the dancing, it was time to leave. The off-worlders returned to their rooms to change back into their regular clothes – which had been expertly laundered by hotel staff, and Myax even found something a little warmer and a better fit for Stojan to wear once she left the snug air of the underground city.

“Don’t stay away so long this time, Doctor.” Myax had to bend down slightly to kiss the top of her friend’s head, smoothing the hair that had been so recently restored behind her ear.

“Oh you won’t miss me, Myax. You’ve got far too much to be getting on with,” the Doctor replied, with a pointed look at the Corsair, who was shaking Jack’s hand and Stojan, who was hugging Phryne around the waist for a second time, having already bestowed an enthusiastic farewell on all present, including those intending to leave with her for Gallifrey.

Myax followed the Doctor’s gaze and grinned at the two humans, gesturing back at their old friend with a tilt of their head and an expression of companionable solidarity. “When she inevitably does something stupid and life threatening, try to pull her out before she gets killed won’t you?

Phryne gave Jack a sideways glance – the ease with which that statement could be applied to herself was not lost on her.

“I’ll try to keep both hands free,” Jack replied, deploying a long-suffering frown that didn’t reach his eyes.

The Doctor handed the Corsair the little grey cube that had once been the Rani’s TARDIS. “It’s in safe mode and it’s locked. I wouldn’t trust to that though, the Rani’s a difficult customer. Unless of course you would rather we dealt with her permanently?” It was almost entirely a joke, the vicious rage they had felt down in the tunnels dulled by the light and time spent with friends. The Corsair shook his head and the Doctor could tell he was thinking the same thing, that temptation towards vengeance and violence melts away with a little time being looked at through a child’s eyes, you never want to be the thing that makes them afraid. He thanked her, taking the cube in one hand, bidding her farewell and walking off arm-in-arm with Myax towards his own TARDIS, Stojan skipping along ahead and ready for another adventure.

It was tempting, almost tempting, to stop him. Once, a very, very long time ago, the Doctor had seen how that man died. And he was a good man, actually quite a clever one too, despite his less than stellar performance against the Rani. She could of course warn him. Risk changing her own personal history and his future. She shook her head at the passing thought. Too much time around humans could do that to a woman. Time might not be the boss of her, but that did not mean she did not have a healthy respect for it, and that was a law the Corsair would not thank her for breaking. Still, it never got easier, meeting the dead.

She hoped that for his sake – not to mention Stojan and Myax’s, that his final end was a long time off. For now, though, it appeared that there was love, and in the Doctor’s very extensive experience, love was always worth the price.    

Turning briskly to her companions with no trace of existential angst on her face, the Doctor clapped her hands together and raised two excited eyebrows.

“You know there’s a moon near the Horsehead Nebula that’s entirely populated by living ice sculptures? Wicked sense of humour they’ve got too. How about it?”

“Sounds marvellous, Doctor, lead the way.” Phryne’s enthusiastic endorsement was genuine but somehow brittle, and as Jack followed her back to the TARDIS, he could not help but feel the weight that seemed to have settled quietly on her slim shoulders.

Once they were inside the control room the first thing that struck the two humans was the sudden presence of colour. Rylian light was beautiful, but the near constant wash of blues and purples gave the place a dreamlike, unreal quality. The sudden presence of the full colour spectrum was a little like waking from a dream to a less fantastical world, even if it was a world that was bigger on the inside and traveling through time and space.

“Doctor?” Phryne asked, a little hesitant.

The Doctor looked over expectantly.

“The Rani said she had done something to me. I take it she was lying?” her voice had risen in pitch in a way which suggested to Jack that she had in fact assumed the opposite.

The Doctor swore inwardly, she had been hoping to avoid this for a little while.

“I disabled the extraneous nano-tech at dinner, she can’t hurt you now.” There was a ‘but’ lurking in that reassurance and Phryne pushed on, she had no interest in being kept in the dark, but was not sure how much she really had the stomach for after such a long and exhausting day.

“She said she had extended my lifespan?” Phryne prompted.

The Doctor sighed. “I don’t think she was lying but there’s no way to tell how long she extended it for without her co-operation. It could be a year, could be a hundred. Still, there’s plenty of universe to see. Could be a lot worse. Of course, we could follow the Corsair if you want to try and find out, they probably haven’t gone far?” she tried her best to imply that this would almost certainly be a futile attempt. She had a feeling that, for all her bravado, even the Rani wasn’t sure of the answer to that question, and pressing for one would inevitably provide an opportunity for her to escape.

Phryne smiled and shook her head. “No, no, that won’t be necessary.” She glanced at Jack, whose face was inscrutable, a clear sign that he was deep in thought.

“Well I for one am going to need a hot bath and a stiff drink before attempting the rest of the universe.” She had set her chin, determined to not show weakness even if this was not the answer she had hoped for.

“Well, if you must – run along then.” The Doctor responded, distractedly disconnecting and reconnecting wires in part of the console that was buzzing slightly.

Perhaps it would be better to just apologise, to offer to take her young friends home, to keep Phryne safe, like a good adult should, but her brief acquaintance with Miss Fisher was more than enough to tell the Doctor that trying to keep Miss Fisher safe was an exercise in futility. She busied herself with barely necessary repairs and maintenance instead; the TARDIS at least was something she knew how to fix.

Phryne turned to her partner. “Nightcap, Inspector.”

He nodded, his expression softening, but with a lingering worry around the eyes.

“Lead the way, Miss Fisher.”

They could hear the sounds of the Doctor quietly cursing her ship all the way down the corridor. Somehow, the faint echo of incomprehensible swearing was oddly comforting, like the distant rumble of the sea heard through an open window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Corsair is almost entirely an OC. He is mentioned in an episode of Dr Who called The Doctor's Wife when the Doctor comes across his remains on a sentient asteroid outside of our universe. I liked the idea that they still had a friendship left after that, and also that there were rules to meeting the dead which neither of them would want to break.


	14. Epilogue: Living in the Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A post case nightcap in unfamiliar surroundings.

Jack followed Phryne down the corridor into the room the Doctor had provided for her. Their host would probably offer him one as well when the opportunity arose, there hadn’t really been time thus far - somewhat ironic in a time machine. Since the moment he had stepped on board the TARDIS (and gods only knew how far away Melbourne and 1930 were now), there had not been a minute to stop and think. That fast paced existence was the sea Phryne swam in, no time to consider, no forward planning, just full speed ahead and hope the consequences never caught up with you. He looked at her, that brittle smile still lurking around her eyes as she poured them something that sadly was not whiskey from a bottle on the table.

“Not quite what we’re used to but I’m sure we can make do.” She handed him the glass, he took it and sipped.

“Well, it’s not as pungent as that stuff you found in Queenscliff at least. What is it?”

“No idea, something extra-terrestrial I imagine.” She took a sip and made a face. She really wanted whiskey and doubted she would get any.

Jack shrugged and tipped it back, wincing slightly as the strong liquor hit the back of his throat. He waited, taking a seat on a little sofa, watching as she refilled their glasses and joined him. Whatever was bothering her, she would share, or she wouldn’t; he therefore employed his favourite interrogation technique and remained silent.

Phryne sloshed the liquid around in her glass, pulling her thoughts together. She was angry, mostly at herself. She had let that horrible woman violate her body, had not questioned her motives, had been too caught up in the excitement of the new place, and her usually impeccable judgement had failed. It made her feel uncharacteristically small, powerless in the face of a universe that might just be bigger and brighter than she was. The idea that she had, having been on this adventure for all of five minutes, already been bested by someone grated, and her normally unassailable self-assurance was faltering. She did not like it.

Worse still, there had been consequences, and that too was…confusing. To be granted an extended life span, perhaps enough to see another century – that should have been a reward, a great adventure. But looking across at Jack, quietly sipping his drink, not pushing or pressing, just calm and steady and present, it didn’t feel like a gift; it felt like a death sentence. Not hers, but his. Was she to go on, wandering the universe for decades, centuries after his death? But he knew she came back to Melbourne eventually, some future version of herself had spoken to him on the telephone and drawn him out here to be with her. How far into her future had that call been? She shook her head and took another sip of her drink. Ridiculous, they had barely begun this relationship and she was lamenting what – the possibility that they might not grow old together? When had that been decided? She looked back down into her glass of alien alcohol. 

“I met my match today, Jack.” It was a confession she would not have made to just anyone and he knew it.

“And you made sure that little boy was returned to his family, and that a great many people will have to opportunity to live a far better life than they could have hoped for otherwise. You cared, when it’s clear no-one on Rylia thinks much about those on the lower levels.” He took her hand in his, stroking the tendons with his thumb. Phryne felt a little of her tension seep away.

“You were asked to investigate something you couldn’t possibly have predicted or understood.” His face darkened a little – he had still not entirely forgiven the Doctor or Myax for that little oversight, and he was not going to forget it. “We will just have to get better at knowing what to expect. I for one intend to spend some time in the Doctor’s library.”

That was Jack all over. He wouldn’t patronise her by lying to make her feel better. He respected her too much for that, but he would not let her carry the weight of other people’s mistakes either. She leaned closer to rest her head against his shoulder, feeling the weight slip from her as she closed her eyes and breathed him in.   

“I wish I knew,” she mused, glad she could not see his face now, “how long the Rani gave me. Of course, she might have been lying.”

“Why, were you planning to take up thinking ahead? That’s not like you.”

She prodded him in a particularly ticklish spot in vengeance. “Jack, I’m serious. What if it’s…a long time?” She couldn’t quite bring herself to say it, _longer than you_.

It took Jack a moment to parse that subtext, to realise with a shock that this might be something she would fear. He shut his eyes, pressing his lips into the top of her head; the faint citrus scent of Rylian seawater still clung to her hair. She loved him and she wanted to be with him, the idea that it might not be forever was painful to her, too painful to put into words. It was an unspoken commitment, but it was enough, more than enough, more than he had ever dared hope for.

“Then the universe will be lucky to survive the experience. Especially with the Doctor in the driving seat.” There was unmistakable admiration in his voice, somehow, when it mattered, he always knew just what to say.

Phryne looked up at him, at the trust and love and respect that shone out of his face making his blue eyes dance, and simply couldn’t help herself. She pushed herself up on her knees and turned to kiss him, a grounding kiss, pulling her to earth, reminding her where the steady ground lay, firm against her feet. The future could take care of itself, she decided, and if it couldn’t, well, they _were_ in a time machine. She could always take matters into her own hands. Somewhere in that library there must be instructions on how to fly the thing…   

At that point she lost her train of thought, as Jack’s hands found their way under her skirt and he set about making her see stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for my little space adventure - I hope you've all enjoyed it. Thanks so much to everyone who's read, kudos'd and left comments you make my day and I love you all in the face!
> 
> There are a few more of these to come but I've not started them yet so we will see when the muse hits me.


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